My Death Of A Thousand Cuts
by YanzaDracan
Summary: The mastermind gets a wake-up call. A chance meeting between Eliot, Dean, Sam helps Lindsey get his soul back from the Senior Partners, but at what cost. Slash & Het. Eliot S./Lindsey M; Nate F. /Sophie D.; Parker/Alec H.; Leverage/Angel, The Series/Supernatural. Dean W.; Sam W.; Bobby S.; Castiel
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Lindsey McDonald met Dean and Sam Winchester and Eliot Spencer while trying to find a way to break his contract with the Senior Partners. He'd heard rumors of Dean Winchester coming back from hell, and wanted to find out how the man did it. He was heading to Singer's Salvage in South Dakota when a man with long hair, wearing a copy of his face slammed him against a brick wall while a really tall guy stood as back-up.

Guys," A raspy voice came from behind the Yeti. "let up. Let's ask him questions first this time?"

The tall one's head whipped around. "You wanna talk first?"

Lindsey couldn't see who was talking.

"I know 'im." His mirror image kept him pinned to the wall. "Lindsey McDonald." He growled in Lindsey's face.

"How do you know?"

"Remember when you found me?"

Lindsey heard a grunt of affirmation.

"The demon that had me thought I was this cat and almost talked me to death about how the Senior Partners would elevate him for catching Lindsey McDonald."

Lindsey shuddered.

"Good thing we found you first." The man speaking stepped from behind the tall man.

He laid a hand on the long haired man's back. "He can't talk if he can't breathe, El."

The pressure on his throat let up.

"This ain't the place for this conversation anyway."

Strong fingers wrapped around Lindsey's nape and pulled him out of the alley and shoved him into the backseat of a classic Impala.

"My truck." Were the first words Lindsey spoke.

"Give Sam your keys." The handsome green eyed man in the leather coat nodded toward the tall man.

Lindsey hesitated.

"Ya wanna talk to me … We do it on my terms on my turf. Otherwise climb in your truck and forget my name."

They'd gone to Singer's where Lindsey was subjected to tests that were painful, but not enough for the hunters to try to exorcise or kill him. He'd been surprised to see a collection of ancient books that rivaled Wolfram and Hart's.

After two days of research, Dean had gone quiet as he left the room carrying a book Bobby didn't remember owning.

The elder Winchester had been MIA for several hours when Eliot's head snapped up from his reading. He raced out the door to find Castiel holding an unconscious Dean, the book and a jar that look suspiciously like blood sitting at his feet.

"Cas?" Sam rushed toward his brother, but the angel curled over Dean protectively.

"You ..." He looked pointedly at Sam and Lindsey, "Must not touch him right now." Castiel's anger added an inhuman glow to his eyes.

"What'd he do?" Eliot asked, picking up the jar and the old tome.

"Something he should not have been able to achieve on his own."

Bobby's chuckle surprised them all.

"I fail to see anything humorous." The angel scolded as he carried Dean to the couch.

"That's 'cause you don't know Dean. Boy's been doin' what he shouldn't be able to since he was four." Bobby headed for the kitchen. "'Bout time to think about grub, don't ya think."

Eliot's eyes widened. "Bobby Singer, step away from the kitchen before I do something you'll regret."

"I ain't cookin', ya idjit. Just gittin' a beer." He smirked.

When Dean regained consciousness, he'd snatched the jar, the book, plus Lindsey and locked Bobby's panic room door against everyone. All eyes turned to Castiel, who shrugged and told them he couldn't follow where Dean was going.

When they stepped from the room 24 hours later, exhausted beyond limits, Lindsey held his voided contract from the Senior Partners in his hand, which he'd promptly burnt using holy oil provided by Castiel.

When Dean nor Lindsey showed for breakfast, the three around the table exchanged a look.

"Did you look at the spell Dean used?" Sam asked Bobby.

Not looking too happy, Bobby nodded.

"What'd he have to do?" Eliot prodded.

"He needed the blood of an angel. Then there's some kind of purification ritual … That's why Cas wouldn't let you or Lindsey touch him."

"Can we cut to the chase, Bobby?" Sam kept watching the stairs.

"Dean opened a portal to the Senior Partners where they got the kid's contract back."

"What was his leverage?" Eliot asked.

"What?" Bobby and Sam asked together.

"The Senior Partners aren't gonna give Lindsey's contract up because Dean says please, so what was his leverage to force their hand?"

"The book doesn't say."

"Don't you think we oughta find 'em and ask in case it's something that'll bite us in the ass later?"

They searched the junkyard, shop and house until they met at the cellar steps. The found the two men in the panic room, the cot shoved against the wall, Dean shielding Lindsey with his body. The sound of a safety being released broke their paralysis.

"Show yourself!" Dean's voice was hoarse like he'd spent the night yelling.

"Dean?" They heard Lindsey's plaintive question.

"'S'okay, Linds … Just mom and my two ugly sisters." He reassured him.

"Why are you down here?" Sam asked.

"We wanted the room with the canopy bed." Dean snapped. "Why do you think?"

"Is something comin' after you idjits?" Bobby asked.

"No."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. It's gonna take 'em a couple days to find enough pieces to do anything. C'mon Linds." Dean pulled the lawyer to his feet. "Since we can't sleep, might as well grab a shower."

Lindsey followed Dean so close he practically stepped on his heels.

"Together?" Sam all but squeaked.

"Small side effect … Wears off in a couple days." Dean smirked as he interlaced his fingers with Lindsey's.

Lindsey stuck his tongue out childishly as he followed Dean up the steps.

"But … Dean …" Sam hung his head.

"What, Sam? Likes boys and girls? Not a surprise." Eliot waggled his eyebrows.

"I really don't need to know this." Bobby groaned as he followed Dean and Lindsey up the stairs.

"I don't like the way Dean was movin'. I need to check both of them for injuries." Eliot was all business as he left Sam standing in the basement with more questions than answers.

Eliot was waiting patiently when Dean and Lindsey came in to get dressed. A slight widening of blue/grey eyes was his only reaction when he saw Dean's torso.

Ignoring Eliot, Dean moved to his duffel for clean clothes. Blue eyes implored Eliot to do something when Dean's breath caught as he bent over.

"Won't be needin' those 'til I check ya over." Eliot growled.

"'M fine. Just bruised." Dean continued to get dressed.

"Now look, Hoss …" Eliot started toward the hunter.

A hand on his arm caused him to jerk back. He glared at Lindsey. The lawyer kept a hold of Eliot.

"Dean, please?" The voice was soft. "It's my fault …"

Dean cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Fine."

Eliot went over Dean carefully. There were half healed gashes, a slice on his inner arm that looked like someone had deliberately opened a vein, scratches and burns. He frowned when he got to Dean's shoulder with Castiel's hand print. The hand print had been altered … New scarring … A part missing.

He looked up when bare skin entered his peripheral vision. There was a patch of new skin over Lindsey's heart almost like a skin graft. Eliot stared at the new scar than back at Dean's shoulder. His frowned deepened at the conclusions he was drawing.

"Dean … What?" Eliot started.

"Can I get dressed?" Dean cut off the question.

"Yeah. Yer wounds are past the point they need tendin'." Eliot turned to Lindsey. "What about you, son?"

Damp curls danced as Lindsey shook his head in the negative. When he lifted his eyes to meet Eliot's, the retrieval specialist saw new shadows had joined the ones that already lived in the boy's head. Eliot flicked his eyes to the new scar on his chest.

Lindsey paled to the point where Eliot thought he was going to pass out. Eliot was surprised as Dean pushed past him and gathered the shorter man in his arms. His gravelly baritone seemed to soothe the lawyer though Lindsey never released the death grip he had on Dean's shirt. After a few minutes, he pulled back and after a couple of deep breaths had himself back under control. He gave Dean a weak smile causing the hunter to press his lips to his forehead before letting him go as he headed out of the bedroom leaving Lindsey and Eliot alone in room.

Lindsey had been under the scrutiny of too many demons, vampires, and liaisons to the Senior Partners to fidget as he waited for whatever came next, but Eliot surprised him by brushing past him.

"Ya want breakfast before Sam's interrogation starts ya best come on." The retrievalist threw over his shoulder.

Blinking several times to bring his brain back to the present and not all the scenarios that had been running through his head, Lindsey followed.

Sam was practically vibrating by the time the men finished breakfast. When Dean's plate was empty Sam started. He paced and spit questions at such rapid fire pace that everyone set back and drank their coffee while the large man circumvented the small kitchen.

"Boy, would you shut up and sit down." Bobby barked. "How in blazes do you expect anyone to answer a question when you don't shut yer yap long enough for anyone to get a word in edgeways?"

The others refilled their cups and retired to the living room leaving Sam standing slack jawed. Eliot was the last out of the room.

"Yer gonna catch flies ya keep standin' with yer mouth open." He snickered as he settled on the couch.

When Sam's brain caught up with that he scrambled to follow the others. Dean had ensconced himself in the old armchair that sat in the shadows of the overflowing book shelves. Lindsey and Eliot had laid claim to the opposite ends of the couch. Bobby sat behind his desk, pouring a healthy dollop of whiskey in his coffee leaving Sam between Eliot and Lindsey.

The uncanny resemblance between the two men caused an uneasiness to run over his senses as the darkness that surrounded them called to that part of him that carried Azazel's taint. Feeling guilty over his continued rendezvous with Ruby and lying to Dean, he ignored the men to concentrate on his brother.

"So what kind of deal did you make this time?" Sam practically snarled.

Bobby and Lindsey's eyes went wide at Sam's attack. Eliot's eyes narrowed as though he was sizing up a target until they heard Dean's chuckle.

"Jealous, bitch?"

"Just trying to find out what's coming after you, jerk."

"Nothin's comin' after me. They gave Lindsey back his contract to get me to leave." He smirked from the shadows.

Sam and Bobby gave a sigh of relief, but Eliot had been shifting his gaze from Dean to Lindsey. He got nothing from Dean, but the lawyer's eyes had widened slightly before his expression had become one of nonchalance as he leaned back like he hadn't a care in the world.

Eliot smirked. He'd looked into Lindsey McDonald after the Winchesters had killed the demon holding him hostage. The boy was highly intelligent and had been a major player with Wolfram and Hart, though his roots were similar to Eliot's own. His sources in LA said McDonald had died taking out the Circle of Blackthorne so the boy must be running a hell of game.

The party broke up by the simple act of Dean leaving the room. He'd had gone to the basement followed by Bobby to resupply their ammo while Sam went to take inventory of the Impala's trunk. He caught Lindsey in the living room going through Bobby's books. He stood at the doorway admiring the younger man's beauty, and wondering if he'd been that pretty when he was younger.

"Did you want something, Spencer? Or are you just gonna stand there glaring?" Lindsey never looked up.

"Ya gotta a mouth on ya, kid, for someone who's dead."

Lindsey merely shrugged before returning to his book.

"Whataya gonna do now that ya go your soul back?"

Lindsey shrugged. "Got enough hidden away I don't have to DO anything. Think I'll do a little sightseeing before I pick someplace to settle … See if the Senior Partners send someone after me, or if they just let it go." He paused chewing his bottom lip and looking at Eliot out of the corner of his eye. Seeming to make a decision he continued. "After what Dean did I don't think they'll be a problem." He rubbed his chest where the new skin set over his heart.

"What exactly did Dean do?" Eliot's voice held a note of command that tickled along his nerves. Lindsey inwardly rolled his eyes. He always was a sucker for the alpha male. Dean and Eliot were both capable of making his blood rush south with a speed that left his brain in neutral as his body revved like the Impala on a deserted two lane. Then his contrary nature would take over and he'd push back.

Lindsey turned back to his book ... He'd only ever seen one at Wolfram and Hart, throwing his answer out casually.

"He blew up the Senior Partners."

"He what!? Blew up hell?" Eliot's eyebrows started climbing towards his hairline.

"Not hell, just the Senior Partners." He turned the page.

He was getting lost in the book when he was snatched out of his chair by the nape of the neck and ended up looking into eyes the color of winter.

"You better explain yerself, boy. Why do you have a patch of Castiel's hand print over yer heart?"

Lindsey was going to play some more just to throw the older man off stride when he heard two gasps from the doorway.

 _*Damn.*_

He looked over Eliot's shoulder to see Sam and Bobby watching them wide-eyed while Dean looked resigned. Grabbing the whiskey bottle from the shelf, Dean went out the door.

Lindsey broke Eliot's hold and moved to follow Dean. Sam made the mistake of stepping between Lindsey and something he really wanted, and found himself slammed against the wall as Lindsey barely broke stride on his way out the door.

Bobby and Eliot exchanged a look.

"Boy's full of surprises." Bobby quipped as he reached out a hand to Sam.

Eliot followed just out of earshot .. His expression thoughtful.

Lindsey didn't have any problem finding Dean. The bond had begun to fade, but he could still feel the hunter's turmoil.

"Dean?"

"Go away, Lindsey. Tell 'em whatever you want, but don't expect me to be part of the conversation. My nightmares are my own." He took a deep pull from the bottle.

Lindsey didn't want to leave him, but if he stayed Dean would only become surlier.

"Come in the house before you pass out." Was all the younger man said as he reluctantly turned away.

A grunt was his only acknowledgement.

Eliot was surprised when Lindsey's eyes met his in the dark. A hard look from the lawyer had Eliot giving him a silent nod.

He would stay until Dean either returned to the house or passed out.

"You can carry yer ass back to the house with 'im, Spencer." Dean's voice had made both men jump.

So much for that plan.

Not wanting to sleep with Dean still outside, Lindsey started sorting through Bobby's jumble of books. Stopping to read occasionally, he'd just gotten through the A's when Eliot appeared with a cup coffee.

"Dean?"

"Brooding."

"Loose or lit?"

"Never tell with that boy. Ready to pass out he'll seem sober as a judge." The enforcer settled on the couch. "Anything interestin'?" He indicated Bobby's books.

"You wouldn't believe …" He gave Eliot an assessing look. "Or maybe you would. A lot of these books were in very private collections … Some that would have been easy to access after the Circle of Blackthorne was eliminated … All that chaos and mayhem in LA, you know."

Eliot's expression never changed.

Shrugging, Lindsey went back to work.

Around two he settled on the couch with a book that had required a higher clearance than Holland's to even be in the same room at Wolfram and Hart.

Around three Eliot pulled the book from the sleeping man and set it and the coffee cup on the end table. A short time later, Eliot was startled out of his meditative state when Lindsey insinuated himself under his arm and tried to get warm by snuggling into his side.

Dean smiled sadly as he watched his old and new friends sleep. It said something for Eliot's state of mind that Dean had crept past, showered and made coffee without waking the paranoid man.

The bond Dean had forged between himself and Lindsey to make it through hell had faded. He'd driven into town and replaced the bottle he'd thrown against one of the wrecks in a fit of self-pity with only a slight twinge. The nightmares of Hell were back in full force, and since he couldn't sleep he would drive and hunt until he could … Today might be a good day to pack his Baby and hit the road.

Heading back to the coffee pot, he didn't see the sliver of blue/grey behind the curtain of dark lashes.

Eliot tried to slide out from under Lindsey, but the younger man seemed to have acquired a death grip when it came to losing his living body pillow. Finally needing to answer nature's call and chase down Dean, he reluctantly pushed him upright causing the lawyer to wake and roll away, coming up in a defensive crouch ready to battle. Lindsey looked around bewildered when nothing happened. A blush rose on his cheeks when he saw Eliot smirking from across the room.

"Not bad … For a lawyer." Eliot drawled.

"Smart ass." Lindsey grumbled under his breath. "Dean?" He asked as he turned toward the kitchen.

"Left us a pot of coffee."

Lindsey cocked his head. "Sober?"

"Apparently."

The pair moved to the kitchen where Eliot began assembling ingredients for breakfast while Lindsey watched out the door for Dean.

Eliot had heard Bobby moving around the house, but Lindsey's thoughts had turned inward so when the elder bellowed, the enforcer thought he'd have to peel the man off the ceiling.

"What in tarnation have you idjits done to my library?!"

"He's not armed is he?" Lindsey asked nervously.

"Probably not, but he's a sly old goat." Eliot grinned.

Lindsey made sure the door knob was within easy reach in case Eliot was wrong.

Breakfast was a quiet affair as Dean's absence was keenly felt. Sam sulked his way through the meal, keeping his head down and eyes on his plate. Bobby shook his head muttering under his breath about idjit brothers while savoring Eliot's cooking.

Lindsey had made to go search for the wayward hunter after breakfast, but was waylaid by Eliot to help clean the kitchen. Before he could argue with the retrieval specialist, Sam was out the door, his mouth set in a hard line.

Eliot exchanged a look with Bobby.

"Party'll be breakin' up soon."

"Likely right." Bobby nodded. "Boy's not sleepin'."

"Must be why Sam's wearin' his bitch face." Eliot rolled his eyes.

Listening to the two men Lindsey figured his stay was at an end, too. He moved toward the stairs. When he came down with his duffel, Bobby's eyebrows pulled down in a frown.

"Goin' somewhere, boy?"

"Thought if Dean was leaving you'd want me gone, too."

"Got somewhere ta be?" Eliot asked.

"No." Lindsey was confused. They acted like they didn't want him to leave.

"Should probably lay low a while … Let word get around the Senior Partners ain't after ya anymore." Bobby suggested.

"I know. It'll take a little doing, but I should be okay." He searched for his jacket … Maybe it was in the Impala.

"I got more books in the attic." Bobby blurted out.

"Okay." He carried his duffel back upstairs.

 **Now**

After Lindsey finished sorting out Bobby's library, he wandered west stopping where he wanted until he eventually settled in Carson City, Nevada. He found a small house in a quiet neighborhood and through casual conversations over a drink or with the waitress, he began picking up clients. Nothing that grabbed headlines, but it kept his keen mind busy so it was a surprise for him to come home one evening after a dinner meeting with a client and find the wards around his house had been disturbed.

He pulled his ever present knife out of his pocket, the spell to transmute it into his sword on the tip of his tongue. Stopping just inside the door, Lindsey stretched his senses to determine what or who had invaded his home.

"Ya sure yer just a lawyer?" A gravelly voice came from the direction of the couch.

"Spencer?" Lindsey frowned as he moved to turn on the lamp.

"Yeah. Didn't wanna tip the neighbors there was someone here. How'd ya know."

"The house is warded." Lindsey moved closer not liking the way Eliot's drawl was heavier than usual. "How bad are you hurt?"

"More of 'em than I thought." Eliot murmured. "Just need someplace to lay low … Rest." His voice started to trail off.

"Don't fall asleep." Lindsey snapped. Blue/grey eyes blinked several times. "Are you concussed?"

"No. Jist tired."

"Go to bed then. I'm sure you already know where the bedrooms are and which one's mine." Lindsey grumbled.

Eliot gave him an exhausted, but unrepentant smirk as he shuffled down the hall holding his ribs.

Lindsey remembered Eliot didn't spend a lot of time sleeping, so he was surprised to find the retrievalist still sprawled across his guest room bed the next morning. He winced at the bruising on the body that was the perfect balance between muscle and speed. He spent the time it took to walk to the kitchen wrangling his libido back into its box. He had his own problems that kept him looking over his shoulder. He did not need a traveling man with a whole new array of human nasties that came with Eliot's package.

He rested his forehead against the cabinet as he poured his coffee. _*Why couldn't he be satisfied with 'normal'? Was there a sign on his back that told the paranormal and bad boys that Lindsey McDonald was made to be their chew toy? ...*_

His body was aware of another presence before his mind engaged. He turned slowly, the paring knife that had been on the counter now lying flush against the inside of his arm. The sight leaning against the entrance to the kitchen as he turned around shot heat down his spine as his body came to life in a way it hadn't since they'd all gone their separate ways from Bobby's.

Eliot's hair was sleep mussed and curling wildly, arms crossed over his bare chest, jeans slung low over slim hips, zipped just enough to hold them in place. Lindsey's mouth went dry as his eyes followed the thin line of dark hair starting at Eliot's navel and disappearing under worn denim.

With a smirk, Eliot straightened. He'd be sleeping wrapped around the pretty lawyer in no time.

"It's too early in the mornin' for ya to be thinkin' so loud, son."

The sound of that sleep roughened voice had Lindsey turning back to his coffee cup and flipping the fire on under the tea kettle. The banging of cabinet doors brought out a teapot and an array of tea that drew Eliot's attention away from Lindsey and gave the younger man a chance to escape the too knowing eyes.

Partially through his morning routine of scanning the newspapers and his web crawlers, Lindsey was startled when Eliot appeared and refilled his coffee cup. He murmured a brief thanks before returning to his reading.

Satisfied that all his nemesis were nowhere near Lake Tahoe, he turned to his client files. He had to go to the courthouse later so he slid those files in his briefcase. Becoming immersed in the complicated will of a cantankerous old man that had taken a liking to him, Lindsey was again startled, _*he really was going to have put a bell on Eliot*_ , when a broad hand slammed on his desk.

"Didn't ya hear me callin'?"

Lindsey just blinked as his mind pulled out of the will and into the present.

"Sorry. What?"

"Eat. You remember … Food … Breakfast." Eliot teased.

"Oh … Um … Just let me …"

"Now, Counselor. No wonder yer skinny as a rail." He turned and headed back to the kitchen.

Lindsey stood confused. "I eat." He rubbed a hand over his face to clear the cobwebs. "Mostly."

He grabbed his cup and followed.

Over the next few days Eliot watched. He thought he'd gotten a read on Lindsey while they were at Bobby's, but seeing the younger man in his element had him making some quick revisions.

Most of Eliot's bruises had disappeared after a few days, and he'd ask Lindsey to spar with him. He figured it wouldn't hurt the boy to learn a few moves in case the need should arise. Lindsey took him to a local gym where he was Eliot's surprise at Lindsey's abilities had him flat on his back.

Lindsey's smile was slow and very nasty as he looked down at Eliot. Quick as a cat, the enforcer was back on his feet, giving no quarter and asking for none.

Limping, drenched in sweat and bruises, they were grinning like fools as they checked each other for any serious injuries. Sometime during their battle something shifted and it was a more relaxed and companionable silence they shared as they headed home.

While Lindsey changed to go to the courthouse, Eliot sat flipping through his client files. When Lindsey came to get his briefcase, he chided him about wasting his talent.

"I did the big cases. All it got me was a spot on Hell's Top Ten with a bullet." He snatched the file out of Eliot's hand. "For the first time in years I like who I see in the mirror."

Sometimes Eliot would catch Lindsey watching him with so much heat in his blue eyes it nearly set his hair on fire ... Other times the look would be different. The lust was there, but so were softer emotions, but anytime Eliot would try to move closer, Lindsey would pull away.

So Eliot let loose a part of himself he usually kept locked away.

Touch.

Not the good ol' boy slap on the shoulder or the calculated touch he used when seducing a mark. He tried to keep it from being as calculated as neuro-linguist programming, but he wanted Lindsey to associate his touch with pleasure. He wanted the younger man yearning for that touch, seeking it out on the most basic level … And it was working. He'd been at Lindsey's for two weeks, and finally the boy stopped shying away from him. He wagered with himself that the pretty counselor would be in his bed before the week ended.

Lindsey was in court, and Eliot was bored. He wandered into the office and started scanning book titles. He remembered Lindsey's love for Bobby's old books so wasn't surprised when most of the books appeared worn and well read. A copy of Lost Horizon caught his eye. Pulling the book off the shelf he heard a click.

Eliot stepped back as the panel opened to reveal a room—A room that contained Lindsey's greatest treasure and until now, his best kept secret. Inside the room were four beautiful guitars, recording equipment and notebooks full of songs.

Scarred and calloused fingers flowed gently over the beautiful wood, steel, and mother of pearl. Tearing his eyes away from the guitars he let them wander around the room, until they landed on a notebook. He reluctantly pulled his hands away from the guitars to read the words.

 _The Thief_  
 _A travelin' man comes in the dark_  
 _He'll steal your time_  
 _He'll steal your heart_  
 _'Bout the time you think_  
 _He's settled down,_  
 _He steals your soul_  
 _As he's leavin' town_

Eliot's breath caught in his throat. That's why Lindsey kept him at arms' length. Apparently the rumors about Lindsey being a slut for the dark side weren't as true as his sources led him to believe. He left the room as he found it and headed for the Lindsey's gym. He had a lot to think about.

Eliot was frowning at his phone the next morning when Lindsey sat down across from him with his first cup of coffee.

"Has it succumb?" Lindsey asked.

"What?"

"Has the phone succumb to the infamous Eliot Spencer glare?"

Eliot looked up at the grinning man. "It's a job offer."

"And …"

"In Chicago."

Lindsey waited patiently sipping his coffee.

"Working with other people … I work alone."

"Are they any good?"

"What?"

"These people are they any good?"

"Top of their fields."

"Not seeing a reason for the glare."

Stormy eyes met bright blue. "Yer right." A few minutes later he laid the phone down.

"When do you leave?"

"In the mornin'."

With a brief nod, Lindsey abruptly stood. Instead of refilling his cup, he fled the room.

Eliot prepared breakfast as usual, but when Lindsey didn't join him, the enforcer went looking. The house appeared empty, but he had a suspicion where the younger man had sequestered himself. He stood in front of the hidden panel unsure for the first time since he started his campaign to get Lindsey in his bed.

He was trying to not wake Lindsey as he moved through the house in the pre-dawn light. A whiff of spice and a slight movement in the shadows by the front door drew his attention.

"Linds?" He kept his voice low not wanting to break whatever spell was weaving around them. He dropped his duffel when strong hands grabbed the front of his button down and pulled.

The mouth that crashed into his was full of longing, desperation, passion, and pain with an undercurrent of something else that eluded Eliot as he became lost in the heat of Lindsey's kiss.

Trapped between the front door and Eliot ... Lindsey finally surrendered. He'd tried. He tried not to answer the siren's call of Eliot's touch…his voice. Five minutes. If he'd have held out five more minutes the retrieval specialist would have been gone from his house … From his life. _*Fuck, Lindsey, you're such a slut for the dark.*_

As Eliot continued his sensual assault, Lindsey murmured as Eliot's lips traveled across his jaw, his tongue running over the rim of his ear, canines pinching the sensitive lobe. The words stopped … The world paused … And Lindsey let go and gave himself over to Eliot.

Eliot paused when he'd felt Lindsey's muscles bunch and tighten. He thought the boy was about to throw him off when he suddenly had two armfuls of pliant, relaxed man. The growl of satisfaction that left the older man's chest was accompanied by a clamping down of teeth on the exposed throat.

Some feral part of the hitter had seen the scars left by the others that had marked his boy ... Now the only mark Lindsey McDonald would carry was his.

He was set to drag Lindsey to the master bedroom when a clock chimed the hour. With another growl he released Lindsey and stepped back.

"I gotta go." He stated simply.

Head down, panting to catch his breath, Lindsey nodded.

Taking in the defeated posture, Eliot reached out and lifted the dark head with a finger under his chin.

"I'll be home soon."

~ Fini ~


	2. Healing The Wounds

_Knowledge is power and information her coin._ That was the first lesson Lindsey McDonald had learned when he went to work for Wolfram and Hart.

The way he'd grown up-poor in the Oklahoma oilfields, siblings dying because of that poverty, Lindsey thought he had the inside track on the degradation one human could reap on another, but his time with Wolfram and Hart gave him a whole new appreciation.

The games Nathan Ford played with his crew were kindergarten compared the machinations Lindsey had set-up and been a part of while with Evil, Inc. The exception was Eliot, who had been places, done things, and had connections that twisted the lawyer's insides.

The man that wore an older version of his face had friends and enemies in both the mundane and supernatural worlds. How he survived it all was a tribute to his intelligence, ability to adapt, and having friends the likes of The Brothers Winchester and Bobby Singer.

Lindsey had met Dean and Sam Winchester and Eliot Spencer while trying to find a way to break his contract with the Senior Partners. He'd heard rumors of Dean Winchester coming back from hell, and wanted to find out how the man did it. He'd traced him to Singer's Salvage in South Dakota when a man with long hair, wearing a copy of his face slammed him against a brick wall while a really tall guy stood as back-up.

Guys," A raspy voice came from behind the Yeti. "let up. Let's ask him questions first this time?"

The tall one's head whipped around. "You wanna talk first?"

Lindsey couldn't see who was talking.

"I know 'im." His mirror image kept him pinned to the wall. "Lindsey McDonald." He growled in Lindsey's face.

"How do you know?"

"Remember when you found me?"

Lindsey heard a grunt of affirmation.

"The demon that had me thought I was this cat and almost talked me to death about how the Senior Partners would elevate him for catching Lindsey McDonald."

Lindsey shuddered.

"Good thing we found you first." The man speaking stepped from behind the tall man.

He laid a hand on the long haired man's back. "He can't talk if he can't breathe, El."

The pressure on his throat let up.

"This ain't the place for this conversation anyway."

Strong fingers wrapped around Lindsey's nape and pulled him out of the alley and shoved him into the backseat of a classic Impala.

"My truck." Were the first words Lindsey spoke.

"Give Sam your keys." The green eyed man in the leather coat nodded toward the tall man.

Lindsey hesitated.

"Ya wanna talk to me…we do it on my terms on my turf. Otherwise climb in your truck and forget my name."

They'd gone to Bobby Singer's where Lindsey was subjected to tests that were painful, but not enough for the hunters to try and exorcise or kill him. He'd been surprised to see a library that rivaled Wolfram and Hart's.

After two days of research, Dean had gone quiet as he left the room carrying a book Bobby didn't remember owning.

The elder Winchester had been MIA for several hours when Eliot's head snapped up from the book he was reading. He raced out the door to find Castiel holding an unconscious Dean, the book and a jar that look suspiciously like blood sitting at his feet.

"Cas?" Sam rushed toward his brother, but the angel curled over Dean protectively.

"You ..." He looked pointedly at Sam and Lindsey, "Must not touch him right now." Castiel's anger added an inhuman glow to his eyes.

"What'd he do?" Eliot asked, picking up the jar and the old tome.

"Something he should not have been able to achieve on his own."

Bobby's chuckle surprised them all.

"I fail to see anything humorous." The angel scolded as he carried Dean to the couch.

"That's 'cause you don't know Dean. Boy's been doin' what he shouldn't be able to since he was four." Bobby headed for the kitchen. "'Bout time to think about grub, don't ya think."

Eliot's eyes widened. "Bobby Singer, step away from the kitchen before I do something you'll regret."

"I ain't cookin', ya idjit. Just gittin' a beer." He smirked.

When Dean regained consciousness, he'd snatched the jar, the book and Lindsey and locked Bobby's panic room door against everyone. All eyes turned to Castiel, who shrugged and told them he couldn't follow where Dean was going.

When they stepped from the room 24 hours later ... Exhausted beyond limits ... Lindsey held his voided contract from the Senior Partners in his hand, which he'd promptly burnt using holy oil Castiel provided.

Lindsey shook himself free of the memory has he carefully wrapped the photo of the men he considered family and placed it into the box he was packing.

Sam was gone … Another apocalypse averted. Dean had gone to ground ... Bobby wasn't saying where, but like a bad penny, Lindsey was sure one or both brothers would show up on his and Eliot's doorstep some day.

Lindsey cursed the Senior Partners for the misery they spread as he closed the container with a snap and looked around the room for forgotten items. Successful as he was, his own time in hell kept his possessions few and whatever 'things' were precious to him remained light, portable and always ready to move.

As he turned the key in the ignition of his own American classic, a wave of sadness crossed his face as he remembered scavenging through Bobby's junkyard as they all pitched in to restore the old truck to her former glory. Shaking away the memories, he smiled thinking Boston was never going to be the same.

Hearing a commotion in the hallway of his floor above McRory's, Eliot froze. He dimmed all the lights except the one over the door. Getting into position he waited as the tumblers in the lock clicked over.

Quick as a viper, he had the intruder in a sleeper hold before he was through the door. He quickly let go when a scent as familiar his own invaded his nose where it was buried in soft, brown curls.

"Lindsey?" He let go and stepped back.

The lawyer stood rubbing his neck.

"Nothing says love like a sleeper hold." He snarked.

"How the hell was I supposed to know? Hardison tells me they have this great invention called a phone. Why didn't you call?"

"Wanted to surprise you?" Lindsey actually looked sheepish

"Never a good idea, Darlin'. Now come here."

He grabbed the younger man and pulled him into a breath stealing kiss that left Lindsey weak kneed and panting. When they came up for air, Eliot eyed the suitcase sitting in the hall.

"Lindsey …?"

"I'm tired of sleeping alone … Being alone."

"But …"

"No. Eliot. Just. No." He raised his head, chin stubborn. "I refuse to waste Sam and Dean's sacrifice hiding in another city because you're afraid your past will rear its ugly head. We've both seen ugly and your enemies aren't it." Hands on hips he was nose to nose with the retrieval specialist. "In case you've forgotten I have a few skills of my own. I ... AM ... STAYING. Now where's the bedroom. The rest of my stuff's down in the truck."

Eliot surrendered.

~}}}~~~

Senses snapped from sleep to alert in a heartbeat. Someone was in his bedroom. He didn't move ... His breathing didn't change ... His eyes didn't open, as the rest of his senses reconnoitered the room. He mentally rolled his eyes as he recognized the scent.

"Parker, what are you doing?" Pale eyes met dark as the thief knelt next to the bed.

"Couldn't sleep." She whispered then nodded her head toward the still sleeping Lindsey. "Why are you sleeping with yourself? Is this one of those computer things that Hardison is always trying to do? Can I get one of me to sleep with, too … And since I'm here can you …"

"Parker!" Eliot hissed. "He's not me or a copy of me."

"He smells like you."

"Of course he smells like me. He's mine." Eliot growled.

"I'm yours ..." she sniffed her arm, "I smell like me." Her eyes were confused.

"Sex, Parker. He smells like me because we had sex." Good gods, why was he having this conversation with a crazy woman at three in the morning?

"If we have sex will I smell like you?"

"We're NOT having sex, Parker. You'd hurt Hardison's feelings." Eliot gritted his teeth trying not to wake Lindsey.

"Why? He knows I sleep with you."

Eliot's eyes widened at the snicker coming from the other side of the bed as Lindsey rolled toward the commotion.

"Not helping, Linds."

Eliot lifted the covers and Parker dove between the two men and snuggled into the spot Eliot vacated when he realized someone was in the room.

"Parker … Lindsey McDonald … Lindsey … Parker."

"He's the one that makes you almost smile when you leave and come back?" Parker tucked her head under Eliot's chin.

"Yeah, Parker."

"That mean you're gonna quit bein' growly all the time?" She yawned widely.

"Not happenin', Parker."

"Good."

Her body relaxed into sleep.

"I really need my phone." Lindsey grinned across Parker

"No you really don't." Eliot glared.

"She do this often?"

"Usually she falls asleep on the couch with a book after making it around my security system. She only does this on really bad nights."

Lindsey rolled against Parker's back and reached across the blonde to twine his fingers with Eliot's.

"She always so out there?"

"Let's just say she survived her own version of Hell." Warm lips caressed knuckles. "Sleep. She'll be bouncin' the bed in a couple hours wantin' food."

Lindsey closed his eyes mentally marking Parker off his list. The girl was 'tetched' as his Grams would say, but not someone who would deliberately hurt Eliot. After all, she seemed to think she belonged to Eliot ... Though the lawyer wasn't sure what that meant to someone whose mind worked like Parker's.

The next time he opened his eyes, the bed was empty and the apartment filled with the smells of one of Eliot's breakfasts. A quick shower and he left the bedroom to find a tall drink of water leaning against the counter reaching for something on Eliot's cutting board that earned him a rap on the knuckles.

"Hardison." Eliot growled.

Ah, the hacker. A tendency to be self-centered and lost in the world of electronics ... Thinking because he ruled the bytes in the world of the machine, he knew how to apply those same techniques in the outside world.

Eliot watched Lindsey as he watched Parker and Hardison. He knew his boy had already dismissed Parker, but was looking at Hardison with an expression that boded ill for someone.

Feeling the glare, Hardison turned, his jaw dropping when he saw Lindsey. Bewildered eyes turn back to Eliot as Parker snickered.

"I slept with two Eliots last night." She crowed.

Before Alec could respond, Eliot pointed his knife at him.

"Be literal, Hardison."

"Oh … Then …" He looked back and forth between the two men.

Eliot sighed at Lindsey's smirk. "Alec Hardison … Lindsey McDonald."

Alec's eyes got wide. "But … The stories … They said …" He turned wide eyes on Eliot. "YOU know 'bout those kinda things?"

"I know a lot of things, Hardison" Eliot stated flatly, setting plates in front of the other three before leaving.

The hacker looked at the other two. "What? I didn't say nothin'." He whined.

"You made Eliot skip breakfast. I might have to think about how much I really like those pretzels." Parker pouted as she took her plate and perched on the arm of the couch.

Lindsey wasn't about to let one of Eliot's omelets go to waste so he ate while studying the young black man. Anyone who knew Lindsey would have been backing away at the expression on his face, but Hardison continued to frown towards Parker.

Feeling like a butterfly on a pin, Alec finally looked back at the lawyer. His chin was resting on his hand, his expression deceptively bland.

"So tell me, Alec Hardison, do you always build yourself up by tearing others down." He savored a bite of his omelet. "You're not ever going be leader of the pack so you ought to just get used to the view."

"You don't know me, man. Why you gotta go and say all that?" Hardison bristled.

Lindsey smiled his shark's smile. "I've known hundreds like you. In that world ..." he nodded toward the computer, "You're king." Pale angry eyes turned back to the hacker. "Out here you're just a geek with minimal skills that you learned because the lead wolf hauled you off your tight little ass."

Parker placed her empty plate in the sink and moved to Lindsey while Alec sputtered his indignation.

"Eliot ain't the lead wolf. He follows Nate just like the rest of us."

Lindsey's smile turned nasty as he watched the trap snap shut.

"Who do you look to when Nate goes off the farm and you're up to your ass in alligators?"

Hardison's gaze dropped to the floor. A saucy grin on her face, Parker smacked Alec on the ass.

"Don't pout. I don't mind following Eliot … He's got a great ass." She flipped her ponytail as she sashayed out the door.

Hardison stared slack-jawed after her.

"I suggest you don't let that one get away. She'll keep you humble." Lindsey snickered as Hardison grabbed his computer to follow the blonde.

An hour later, a sweaty, more relaxed Eliot returned. Lindsey shooed him to the shower while he fixed him breakfast.

Two floors down, Hardison bent over the keyboard. When Parker realized he was researching Lindsey she'd made a tsking sound, and with an ominous, "Better not let Eliot find out you're doing that ..." skipped toward the door.

"Doesn't matter ... My little crawlers didn't turn up anything. It's like he disappeared after all that went down." Alec muttered.

"Who disappeared?" Nate asked as he came down the steps.

"Nobody." Hardison hedged.

"Eliot's boyfriend." Parker spun around.

"Eliot has a boyfriend who's nobody?"

"According to my computer."

"But I slept with them."

"He's supposed to be dead."

"He felt really alive last night."

"Parker!" Both men yelled.

"What!? It was like twins." She smirked as she slid out the door. Wouldn't do for Hardison to get too sure of himself.

She liked Lindsey. It was time to see if he anything good to steal. If he was going to be in the family, she needed to steal something for her collection.

When Hardison looked back at Nate, the expression on his face made sweat trickle down his back. The mastermind had that look on his face that didn't bode well for whoever it was directed toward.

"So. Eliot has a boyfriend?"

Lindsey paused in his unpacking. A sly smile crossed his face. He went back to unpacking and ignored the other presence in the room.

Parker inched further into the room. When he paused she thought he'd caught her, but then he went back to what he was doing. She was almost directly behind him when he swung around and they were nose to nose.

"Something I can do for you, Parker?" The pale eyes twinkled with 'gotcha'.

She startled. "How'd you know?" She hated getting caught.

"Let's just say I have certain abilities."

"You a ninja like Eliot?"

"In a manner of speaking." The girl didn't need to know about Nepal and Hell.

"Cool. So I didn't mess up?"

"No, Parker you didn't." The sly smile was back. "You hungry? I was about to make lunch."

Indigo eyes lit up. "Can you cook like Eliot?"

"Nobody cooks like Eliot, but I'm no slouch." He held out his hand. "Let's go see what we can find."

Lindsey began to weave his magic around Parker.

By the time the happily stuffed Parker left the apartment, Lindsey had the information and ammunition he needed. Parker had even told him about the Italian.

By the time Eliot returned Lindsey had settled his things. The older man handed him a CD before he disappeared into the shower.

When Eliot saw Lindsey sitting where'd he been when he got in the shower, the retrieval specialist began to worry.

"Linds?"

Sky colored eyes looked up ... The sheen of tears making them sparkle.

"When? … How?... It's perfect."

The older man blushed deeply. "Had some studio time for job we did in Memphis."

"You sang … In public?" Lindsey paled.

Eliot turned away … Hiding from eyes that saw as much as his own.

"He was stealing their souls." He said so low Lindsey had to strain to hear.

"A demon?"

"No. Just a man that sucked the life out of everything he touched."

"You risked exposure …"

"Linds …" Scarred and calloused hands beseeched understanding.

They didn't perform in public anymore. The Internet spread news like wildfire and they couldn't afford the exposure ... Too many enemies on both sides of the veil.

"If one thing got out."

"It didn't."

"How can you be sure?"

"Hardison got it all. The boy might babble like an idiot, but he's the best at what he does. Wouldn't work with 'im otherwise."

Lindsey relaxed, which in turned let Eliot relax. Being here like this was not something he was ever going to take for granted. Not when either of their pasts could catch up with them any minute, but he was going to have a word with a certain pretty boy hacker … Just in case.

Nathan Ford stood at the bar opposite from where Eliot's lover sat talking to Hardison. The quick mind was amazed at the level of stillness in the hacker. Nate had never seen Hardison when he wasn't in motion either physically or verbally. He felt Sophie brush against his side.

"Eliot cut his hair?!" Her voice was incredulous.

"That's not Eliot." Nate took a sip.

"Oooh. No it's not. Younger, prettier… But still that little hint of 'bad boy. Interesting. Think I'll go introduce myself." The grifter purred.

"Careful. He belongs to Eliot."

"Brothers?"

"Lovers."

"Even more interesting." The brunette slinked across the room smirking at the pole-axed expression on Nate's face.

Lindsey stopped his questioning of Hardison when he saw the hacker's eyes widen. The smirk that followed told Lindsey it was a friend. The cloud of expensive perfume told him which friend. He stood and turned with a friendly, open expression, and an extended hand.

On reflex Sophie reached out. Her eyes widened as the young man made a courtly bow over her hand, lips barely grazing her knuckles.

"Ah, Ms. … Devereaux." During his pause he slanted his eyes toward Nate, letting her know he knew her real name. "Enchante."

Sophie blushed then stammered before catching herself.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir."

Hardison's expression was stunned as he took the opportunity to scuttle over to the bar and Nate.

"Lindsey McDonald at your service, Ms. Devereaux."

"Please call me Sophie." Was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

A brief frown flickered across her face. He was very good. She smoothed her expression and settled her mind.

"So you and Eliot …"

"He talked about me?" Lindsey brightened.

"Well, no, but now that you're here we can get to know one another." Sophie leaned in like he was the most fascinating man in the world. "How did you meet our Eliot?"

"Ms. Devereaux … Sophie, he was my Eliot long before he was yours, so let's cut the bullshit."

Sophie backed up, but Lindsey still wore a pleasantly bland expression.

"Lindsey, I assure you," Sophie paused as the young man arched an eyebrow at her.

She leaned forward again and felt a surge of satisfaction when he moved back until she saw him lean against a familiar abdomen.

"Linds, you're scarin' the thieves." Eliot growled affectionately.

Sophie's eyes were wide and guilty when she saw the retrievalist.

"Just getting acquainted with your friends."

Eliot snorted and sat down.

"That why Sophie looks like Parker sporked her?"

"I was just getting ready to tell her how we met." Lindsey gave him a wink.

"I'd be interested in hearing your version of THAT meeting, myself." Blue/grey eyes twinkled.

Sophie stared at the men like she'd stepped into an alternative universe. She glanced at her watch.

"I'd love to stay, but I have an audition. I want to hear your story another time." She practically bolted for the door.

Nate watched Sophie go out the door like Sterling was after her. He looked back at the men talking softly. He looked down into his glass. Making a decision, he stood to join the younger men, but when he looked at the table it was empty.

As much as he hated being grateful to Wolfram and Hart for anything, they made sure all their lawyers could practice anywhere. Grateful they'd been too distracted with Angel to get his law license revoked, Lindsey was grateful when clients began calling.

Neither needed to work, but these man were not of a personality to loll about in the sun all day so Lindsey took cases that only piqued his interest and got to know Eliot's team ... Especially Nathan Ford.

Lindsey flipped the page he was reading over to the research he was doing for a new client when he heard the key in the lock. Eliot came through the door like an Oklahoma dust devil followed by a sheepish looking Parker and a confused Alec.

When the bedroom door slammed, Parker flinched. When Hardison reached out to give comfort, she twisted away and headed for Lindsey.

"Don't be mad."

Lindsey looked at the bedroom door, then Alec who shrugged then back at Parker.

"'Bout what, hun?" The lawyer's voice was soft and low like when he coaxed Eliot out of a nightmare.

"I hit Eliot with a crowbar … In the head." She peeked at him through her bangs.

Fighting the urge to bolt for the bedroom and the fact that Eliot was walking and growling was the only thing that kept his attention on Parker.

"Why did you hit Eliot?"

Lindsey must have succeeded in keeping calm on the outside as Parker began to ramble about ninjas and Eliot and how she can't sneak up on him unless it's before he sings 'cause he gets nervous and can't use the Force and she didn't know he couldn't feel the crowbar like he can people ….

"PARKER!"

Parker and Hardison both jumped as Eliot's voice cut through her chatter.

"Eliot?" Lindsey kept his voice low in deference to the headache the hitter had to be sporting.

"In a minute." The still damp head turned back toward Parker.

Hardison was headed toward the door.

"Eliot's home and fine and you don't need me … I'll just …" he motioned as he walked.

"Hardison?!" Parker looked confused.

"Come on, little mama. I'm sure Eliot has a really … Really bad headache and we'll let him rest and Lindsey will …" He tugged the reticent thief along behind him.

But Parker being Parker dug in her heels and refused to budge.

"You go. I'm gonna stay and make sure everything okay." She pulled her hand from Hardison's.

This was one of her safe houses. She wasn't leaving until she was sure they would let her come back. Parker knew that if Eliot really wanted to keep her out he'd put a security system in place that would probably take both her and Hardison to crack.

Some of the best advice she'd ever received about figuring people out came from Eliot one night when she curled against his back, her forehead pressed between his shoulder blades as she lamented ever fitting in with 'normal' people.

"You don't need to fit in, Parker. You just need to steal ya some normal then wear it like a shirt. When you're done with it ya take it off and be yourself."

"How do you steal normal?" Parker's voice was quiet. She was afraid if she moved Eliot would stop talking.

"How do you break into a bank? People are the just same. You figure out the security system that protects their body, heart and mind, then you figure out how to crack it."

Parker was ecstatic. Eliot told her a secret. Unable to contain the joy bubbling up she didn't catch herself.

"Is that how you get to have sex with everyone?"

"Go to sleep, Parker." He growled wishing Lindsey was there to have these conversations with Parker instead of him.

Without a word Eliot retreated to the kitchen unable to deal with the chaos that clung to the youngest members of the team.

Reading Parker's distress, Lindsey gave her a wink that had her relaxing her pull on Hardison so quick he nearly fell on his face.

"Come on I'll let you buy me supper." She chirped. "Something dead and half cooked." Alec regained his footing.

"Hold on, Parker! I'm drivin'." The hacker yelled down the hall as the apartment door closed and Lindsey threw the locks.

He found Eliot at the table, head buried in his arms, ice pack resting on the crown of his head.

"She didn't mean it." He said softly as he removed the ice pack and gently separated the damp strands.

"I know, but then she gives me sass with her apology and I don't know if I should paddle her or shake her 'til her teeth rattle."

"She's not five, El."

"Maybe not physically." He snorted.

"Concussion?"

"Yeah. Little bit. Not so anyone would notice."

"You mean Nate?"

"Think I'm gonna lay down a while." Eliot avoided the question and Lindsey didn't have the heart to push.

The team was adjusting to having Lindsey in their space, and he made an effort to stay below Nate's radar. He didn't want to tip their hand that they were collecting information about Moreau and the Italian. Neither man was surprised to find the beautiful woman worked for a star chamber organization that was somewhere between Heaven and Hell, though they both employed the same means to the ends.

The more they found out about Moreau the darker Eliot's mood. His mood was often reflected in their sex life. When the information made the retrieval specialist angry, Lindsey often sported bruises, overstretched muscles and twinges that caused Parker to attempt to mother hen the lawyer. She would dig out her stash of fortune cookies and Lucky Charms for him to share.

When something he read scared him, Eliot would be so tender, Lindsey felt like the most loved person in the world. It would take several days before he let Lindsey out of sight.

Every job that even remotely smelled of Moreau, Eliot was putting together additional exit strategies to get the team out at any time.

Meanwhile Lindsey was putting his own plans together. He'd even talked to Bobby, picking the hunter's brain and resources. When he'd asked about Dean, the older man got quiet and said normal wasn't really working out, but since he'd promised Sam, he was still trying.

"He'll be back huntin' before the year's out, mark my words. You idjits takin' care yerselves?" Bobby changed the subject and Lindsey let him.

"Yeah, old man, but you know Eliot?"

"You boys need a bolt hole, you come visit."

"You got it. Let us know if you or Dean need anything."

"Same here, boy." Bobby cut the call before they got to wallowing.

Lindsey had started to relax thinking maybe Nate had gotten himself under control. The team had been six weeks without a job, and Eliot nagging injuries had finally healed.

When Eliot announced they were going to southern West Virginia on a job, Lindsey had been disappointed he couldn't go because of a court date. He almost slipped Eliot's grasp to hunt down Nate when Eliot told him part of the plan involved him being down in the mine.

"Linds, It'll be fine. No chains, guards or torturer demons involved." He cradled the younger man to his chest.

Though faint, Lindsey still bore the scars of his torture while in one of the Senior Partners holding dimensions, but it was his inner scars that made him fear for Eliot going into the mine.

In a reversal of roles, Lindsey became the aggressor attempting to bury himself so deep inside of the Eliot the hitter would feel his presence until he returned.

Lindsey had been working on a summation for a case when Eliot kissed him on the temple and said he was going downstairs for a beer. Deep inside his own head, Lindsey had given him a vague answer before immersing himself in his closing statement.

When he'd emerged hours later, satisfied, Eliot still hadn't returned. He'd slipped downstairs only to find the bar closed and the room dark. Disappointed he'd returned to their apartment and went to bed. Like most tom cats, Eliot would be home when he was ready, and not just because Lindsey hated sleeping alone.

A shadow stood watching as the man in the bed slept on unaware. His eyes darted back and forth in REM sleep as his body moved restlessly ... Seeking someone that wasn't there.

The tiniest hint of a smirk tugged at the watcher lips as he began to undress, the adrenaline rush of his earlier activities beginning to wane. The dagger of Agu'abi was still in the Boston Museum ... It just wasn't exactly where it had started out. They'd had fun playing with the security guards and system with Parker only bitching a little when they hadn't taken any 'souvenirs'.

Silently, Eliot undressed sliding into his customary spot. The restless movements stopped as the sleeping man recognized his presence. Eliot began his silent, sensual assault on the sleeping Lindsey until bright blue eyes snapped open.

Lindsey opened his mouth to speak, but a calloused hand covered the full lips to repress any sound. With a shake of his head Eliot indicated he was to be quiet. Lindsey nodded his understanding. In the deep black of the night the only sounds were the rasp of beard and calluses on flesh, the creak of abused bed springs, strangled sounds of pleasure until there was only harsh breathing, the rustle of bed clothes then silence.

Eliot and Hardison were in McRory's having a beer ... Hardison even managing to win a game or two of darts when Eliot would get distracted.

"What is it with you tonight, E? You're like Parker after a box of Lucky Charms." Alec teased.

"Can't ya feel it? Something ain't right." Blue/grey eyes swept the bar again.

Alec was about to order another round when Parker burst from the back room.

"You gotta come!" She tugged on Eliot's hand.

"Parker?! What!?" But Eliot had already started to move with her.

"Lindsey." She started.

"What about Lindsey?"

"He was reading some files, and we were talkin' and he just stopped."

"Stopped what, Parker?" Hardison asked.

"Everything. Talking, moving … Oh and his face got real white."

The trio burst into the apartment.

"Linds?" Eliot approached Lindsey desk slowly, not wanting to spook him.

The hitter took in the wide eyes, shallow breathing and pallid skin. _*What the hell?*_

"LINDSEY!" He added the snap of command to his voice, causing even Parker and Hardison to jump.

He reached out to touch his arm only to find the skin clammy. When Lindsey spoke his voice was hollow.

"If Damien Moreau catches you, you better be dead or close to it." He continued to stare at the picture in his hand.

"You know Moreau?" Alec came forward, curiosity egging him on. "There wasn't anything in the files about you."

"That's because I don't know him as Damien Moreau. When I knew him he was Damien Sebassis, human liaison for Archduke Sebassis."

"Out." Eliot turned on his team mates.

Alec started to move forward. "If he has information on Moreau then we need …"

Eliot blocked his path. "You need to do what I say, Bubba, or this is gonna get real ugly." The hitter growled.

Hardison recognized the growl. It meant Eliot was serious. He was about to open his mouth when Parker intervene.

"We have to go, Hardison. Eliot will tell us what we need to know later." Her voice was calm and serious as she continued to watch Lindsey.

She shoved the hacker toward the door.

"But …" He looked up and was standing in the hall, the sounds of the locks being thrown on Eliot's door.

"You don't wanna know what they're gonna talk about." The thief started down the hall without her usual bounce.

"Parker?"

Wide, indigo eyes that knew too much turned on him.

"We all know you don't handle ugly well, Hardison. What they're gonna talk about …" Parker shivered as she headed toward the office.

"Parker?"

"Just look up the name he said." She grabbed her harness from the closet. "Oh and have a barf bag close by." She disappeared out the window.

Eliot set a tumbler of whiskey next to Lindsey's trembling hand.

"Even Holland Manners steered clear of Damien, and he was high enough on the food chain to have a certain amount of protection."

A scarred hand took hold of the one holding the shaking glass.

"Do we need to call Dean?"

Lindsey shivered. The hunter was holding on since Sam went into Lucifer's cage, but he still walked a very fine edge.

"He'd turn it into a suicide mission."

"Would make for a good diversion ... Throw Moreau off balance."

Lindsey wanted to protest, but the memory of Damien and what happened while he was assigned to Sebassis' cases still plagued his dreams.

A hard nip to his earlobe brought the lawyer back to the present.

*When had Eliot wrapped him in his arms and how did he get to the couch?*

"How long?" Eliot kept his voice soft though he wanted to watch someone bleed for what Lindsey had been through at the hands of Wolfram and Hart…a certain vampire's name ran a tight second.

"Almost a year. I got recalled to Los Angeles when the firm took on several vampire clients that kept draining their lawyers." Lindsey gave a choked laugh. "I seem to have an affinity with vampires … Something about the way I smell or my blood … Something." A blush spread over the high cheekbones.

Eliot inhaled deeply. "Hmmm, yeah. Ginger." He shook himself. "Why didn't you leave?"

Lindsey hid his face in Eliot's chest. The retrieval specialist hated seeing his smart-mouthed no holds barred lover so stripped down and vulnerable.

Then the sun broke through the fog of anger in Eliot's mind. This was the Lindsey only he got to see. The trust the younger man bestowed on the battle hardened retrievalist nearly threw Eliot onto his knees.

That's when his second epiphany hit. Eliot gave that same trust to Lindsey. Every time he was too hurt, too exhausted, too anything, he turned to the man snuggled in his arms and his boy never turned him away. Eliot's welfare was always the most important thing in Lindsey's life, as Lindsey's was to him.

 _*Hell's bells and Christmas carols!*_ He knew he loved the younger man, but never realized that it ran so deep into his soul.

He nudged the shivering man.

"Holland always seemed to know when I was at the end of my rope … Damien always stayed this side of permanently damaging Wolfram and Hart assets and Holland greased the wheels with raises and bonus for my excellent 'client relations'. It's the reason I moved into Special Projects so fast."

"What was 'Special Projects'?" Eliot steered the conversation away from any particulars of Lindsey's time with Damien Sebassis … Moreau … Whatever. What he imagined was bad enough.

Lindsey raised his right hand. "The kind of projects that gets your hand cut off then reattached because they're grooming you for the Senior Partners." Lindsey burrowed back into Eliot.

Eliot urged Lindsey off the couch and up to the bedroom where he bundled him in sweats and wrapped them in their feather comforter. The distraught man finally drifted to sleep. Eliot dozed prepared for the nightmares he knew would come.

Parker perched on the stairs keeping a silent watch as Hardison read through the information his 'crawlers' had found on Damien Sebassis. She watched a grey pallor leech the life out of his normally animated features as he read through documents that hadn't been purged when Wolfram and Hart fell.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, but Sophie said when you cared about someone and they were upset, you were supposed to be there for them. So here she was ... Watching over Alec. Her lips curled in a tiny smile. Tonight she was Eliot since Eliot had to be Eliot for Lindsey she would be Eliot for Hardison. Her mind drifted as she waited for the hacker to finish.

Twelve years in the past.

A slim figure slipped into the master suite of the mansion in the Los Angeles hills. She knew the really good stuff had to be in this room. All the other safes in the house contained papers, videos and tapes ... Nothing that would make her any fast cash.

Archie had retired to his real family and Parker's first rush of freedom after being under the master thief's thumb for so many years had been heady, but her funds were depleted further than she liked.

She had put this job together in a hurry thinking it was a typical California businessman with more money than sense, but for just having a bunch of papers lying around, security was top notch and the guards smelled funny.

Parker looked up from where she was going through the night stand to see bright blue eyes watching.

"There's nothing here you want to steal, little thief." The man said tiredly.

Curiosity distracted Parker from her search.

"Are you sick?"

Then she saw the blood, the bruises and the ligature marks. Blue eyes continued to watch.

"Damien got carried away." The man's tone was resigned. "He'll send for the healer before I'm too far gone."

"You let him hurt you?" Eyes widened as she was perched to run.

"It's a game. He has the power to hurt me because my boss says I have to be here. I have the control because I won't give him my power … So he hurts me."

"Sounds messed up."

"That sums it up nicely." He gave her a wink.

His eyes drifted closed, but he forced them open. "You have to hide until the healer leaves. Then the maid comes to clean. You slip out in her cart, and go out through the servants' quarters. The guards will be with Damien listening to his latest exploits."

"But I haven't stolen anything!" She pouted.

"You must be a very desperate to try to steal from this house, little thief."

"Sorta."

"I want you to listen carefully, and heed my words like they came from God's lips." He paused as his shifting ribs caused a spasm through his chest. "There is nothing in this house but blood, pain, and death." He pointed to the stand. "Hand me the wooden box."

Shaking hands opened the box. He pulled out a gold money clip with neatly folded hundred dollar bills, the initials LM intricately entwined.

"This should hold you over until …" a fit of coughing started a trickle of blood from his mouth. "Hide, little thief. The healer is coming." The man warned. "When you leave this place forget it ever existed."

From her hiding place, Parker heard a woman gently scolding the man on the bed. After a while the scolding woman left. The shower came on, and just as the man said, the maid appeared, and Parker made her escape. When she got back to the warehouse she was calling home, she pulled out the money clip.

The gold was warm and heavy, the letters intricate. She could almost make out designs in the letters. When she counted out the money there had been a thousand dollars.

Parker pocketed the money, but had sewn the money clip into one of Bunny's legs for safe keeping … She jerked herself out of the memory.

That meant Lindsey knew Moreau was really Sebassis. He knew how nasty and mean Moreau could be. Dark eyes scanned the room. Lindsey _'knew'_. He was the man on the bed. He gave her his money and money clip.

When Alec went into the bathroom, Parker left a fresh orange soda and Gummi frogs by his computer before heading out the door.

Pale eyes slit open as battle sharpened senses detected a presence.

He relaxed when he felt the mattress shift with the weight of a reed thin thief. The man in his arms started to waken, but was easily soothed when muscular arms tightened and warm breath blew reassurances across his nape.

Morning sun warmed her face causing Parker's eyes to blink open. _*Damn.*_ She hadn't meant to fall asleep. She looked across the pillow to see bright blue eyes watching.

"Good morning, little thief." Lindsey reached out to brush back her bangs.

Parker shifted her eyes long enough to see Eliot watching them both.

She took the gentle hand and placed the money clip against the palm then curled his fingers around it.

"You kept it?"

"It was too valuable to sell."

Parker darted from the bed.

"You knew her before?" Eliot rolled Lindsey until he was sprawled across his chest.

"She didn't seem to remember and it wasn't my finest hour." He placed his ear on the broad chest, letting the strong heart sooth him.

A pinch on the butt woke him as he started to doze.

"OW!"

"Parker?"

"Broke into Sebass ... Moreau's mansion. She was checking the bedroom for safes while I was trying not to die before the healer arrived. I gave her the clip and the money to leave and forget THAT house existed."

Lindsey touched the charm at his neck as he watched the men searching Vector's office. A slim brunette stared out the windows as the men went over every nook and cranny. When their search was unsuccessful, the woman sent them away with an imperious wave. He was about to deactivate the invisibility charm and confront the Italian when a rush of air had him stepping back to avoid being hit with the door.

Nathan Ford at his arrogant best thought he was out maneuvering the woman who held his leash because he had Vector's information about Moreau and Moreau's accounts. Lindsey shook his head as the Italian clicked off her call.

Checking his phone, he saw the captured information from her call. He doubted it would bear fruit, but knowledge is power and information its coin. He slipped out of the building and headed home.

He needed to find Eliot. If they made it out of this alive, Moreau's downfall might heal some of the wounds still bleeding deep where even Eliot's love couldn't reach.

It was time to think about bringing Hardison on board.

~ Fini ~


	3. My Death Of A Thousand Cuts

He stared after Nate incredulous. After being hit by a car, thrown in the harbor, and taking out the bad guys, all Nate could say was _'Bring that back to office with you.'._ Tossing the cardboard picture at him as he wiped blood off his face.

He picked up the cardboard Nathan because they needed to clear out anything that hadn't been in the dealership before their con ... Not because Nate asked him.

He'd just started to relax, and was working off his irritation over Parker's shouted _'Get over it!'_ , and the sting of the thief's betrayal when Nate started in about the car.

He fell into character ... The person they all expected to see. Guess that meant he was a better grifter than Sophie if the people closest to him couldn't see the blood seeping from the hundreds of small cuts they'd been inflicting for the past two years.

Now as they drifted together as couples their disregard cut deeper. The blood flowed freely, draining his spirit, weakening his heart.

Standing outside McRory's he watched ... His hand absently rubbing his cracked and bruised ribs as they ate breakfast. He thought about joining them, but their body language practically screamed their togetherness so he turned and climbed the stairs as silently as he descended.

Parker's head snapped around as her eye caught a brief flash of movement.

"Parker, are you even listening?" Alec's tone was close to a whine.

"Yeah—sure. You do the what with the thing so can, you know." She flapped her hand in the air as she continued to look out the window.

"What are you looking at?"

"Thought I saw someone outside." Parker walked over to the window and looked up and down the street.

"Who?" Nate asked, his attention drawn by her movement.

"Thought I saw Eliot."

"Why didn't he come in?"

"Maybe you just thought you saw him." Sophie suggested.

Parker rolled her eyes at the grifter. "Think we should check on him?" She asked absently as she went back to her breakfast.

"He didn't say nothin'." Alec chimed in.

"About what?" Nate asked.

"He got hit by a car when he was getting away from the guys with guns at the docks." Parker hitched her shoulder.

"Then he took a header into the harbor." Hardison finished.

Nate paled slightly as Sophie gave a little gasp. "Why didn't we hear any of this?" Nate glowered at the youngest.

"EMP shut down his ear bud then the dunk in the harbor fried it." Alec shrugged.

"Then he beat up Lefty." Parker's grin was satisfied if a tad sadistic.

"Then we treated him like an errand boy when we were doing the clean-up." Sophie stated flatly.

She looked over at Nate.

"Why were on him about the car?"

"It's just a guy thing."

"Eliot didn't seem to think so."

"It wasn't serious." Nate sputtered.

"Did he take the car home?" She raised her eyebrows.

"He always rides his bike when the weather's good." Parker laid down her fork. Four sets of eyes tuned on her. "His bike's still parked by the car." She ducked her head.

They were still staring when she peeked from under her bangs.

"What?!"

"He seemed fine last night." Hardison reassured them as his thumb raced over the keys on his phone.

"He was mad. He growled, beat up some guys and got over it." Parker looked around the table. "Why's everyone upset?" The changeable eyes zeroed in on Sophie.

Hardison frowned at whatever he was looking at on his phone.

"Hardison?" Nate didn't like the look on his face.

"Parker, sweetie, Eliot always seems to get 'over it'." Sophie reminded. "He doesn't really let us see when he's hurt. Even when we were in Nebraska he barricaded himself away."

"Why don't you drag things out of him like you do me? You're always telling me how I'm supposed to act and think."

"I was watching the video from in here last night. Eliot was kinda holdin' himself funny…Like he was bein' careful how he moved." He punched a couple buttons. "E, call when you get this."

He looked up to see them all watching him.

"Seriously." Nate asked. "He lets you call him E?"

"Since I played Sidney Poitier to his Tony Curtis." Alec snapped.

Nate spit his coffee as the women just looked confused.

Hardison frowned at Sophie. "I expect Parker to not know, but you're actress. You know _The Defiant Ones_ … Black guy … White guy handcuffed together running through the woods." He held up his wrist, which showed still healing bruises and the scar where Eliot cut his hand.

"Does Eliot's wrist still look that bad?" Sophie frowned.

Hardison shrugged. "Don't know. He stitched my hand, gave me some salve for my wrist and told me everything else was bumps and bruises."

"You go to the doctor?" Nate asked.

"Eliot's better than a doctor." Parker chirped. "He doesn't make you answer stupid questions. He just knows what's wrong and fixes you."

"Eliot?" Sophie sounded incredulous.

"He's got a lot of boring books."

"How do you know Eliot has boring books, Parker?" Alec asked feeling a twinge of jealousy.

"I've read some of them when I sleep at his house." She felt their eyes, again. _*Sheesh*_ "When I break in, he lets me stay." She glared back at Hardison.

"Parker?"

"What!?" She snapped. "He lets me practice on his security systems. Sometimes being the good guys is boring." She wrinkled her nose at Nate.

Nate looked thoughtful as Parker gave up pieces of information like she giving away money.

Eliot sighed when he heard the phone ring. He really wasn't fit company for anyone. He needed to pull himself out of this pit of maudlin self-pity. His logical mind knew he was exhausted, and that exhaustion was mental as well as physical. What started as minor bumps and bruises were compounding with no time to heal.

Nate had kept them pretty much on the con since that Italian bitch started blackmailing them. He was just about to the point of finding Moreau and taking him out himself, which would have Nate's eyebrows crawling to his hairline, Sophie looking down her patrician nose at him, Parker yelling, _'Way to go, Sparky_ ', while Alec tried not to lose his lunch.

The phone continued to vibrate against the wooden table top. Only four people had that number, and he didn't feel the need to talk to any of them at the moment.

He looked out over the city, absently running his hand over his sore ribs. He glanced in his bedroom, catching sight of the duffel that always sat packed by the door. Making a decision, he moved gingerly to pick up the bag. Never looking at the phone, the door clicked quietly behind him.

The heavy wood door swung open before he could knock. The beautiful face surrounded by soft brown curls that appeared reminded Eliot of a Raphael portrait.

The man in the doorway smiled widely then frowned when he felt the darkness trying to cover Eliot's normally bright self. Strong arms pulled the retrieval specialist out of the noon day sun and into the cool shadows of the house.

Eliot relaxed for the first time in a month as he drew in the scent that was home and love in one handsome package.

"Get undressed." The tone was firm, the accent cultured with just a touch of the south peeking through.

"Hello to you, too, Darlin'." Eliot smirked.

"We'll get to that after I check your ribs and whatever else you're hiding under your redneck armor."

"Lin…" Fingers covered his lips.

"Hush. In the bedroom, clothes off … Now." His tone brooked no argument.

Stripped to his wife beater and briefs, Eliot stretched out on the big bed to wait. In the span of a few breaths he was asleep.

He smiled at the sight that greeted him. It'd been a month since Eliot's last visit and he'd missed the Hitter terribly. The smile soon turned to a frown as he began cataloging bruises, cuts, and scrapes. A growl that was usually heard emanating from the sleeping man slipped from between full lips when he saw the bandage wrapped around Eliot's wrist.

A trip to Boston was in his future. After all he and Eliot survived, Nathan Ford was not going to be the reason he lost Eliot. A predator's smile graced his face as he wrapped around his retrieval specialist. He was bored with New York … Now was a good time to plan a move to Boston.

"Hardison?!" Nate's voice was filled with frustration.

"Workin' here." The hacker glowered over top his monitor. "Eliot is the best at what he does-including disappearing into thin air. He knows I'll be lookin' … He knows how I work and he'll be careful not to slip up. He'll probably be back before I have time to sift through facial recognition programs from the transport hubs, not even considering he might have driven out of town."

Nate managed to look sheepish. "You're right. When I think of disappearing, I usually think of Parker—not Eliot."

Alec stopped typing and closed the lid on his laptop. Since the hypnotism stunt Nate had pulled on him, the hacker had lost a lot of respect for the older man. His feelings for Parker and his deepening friendship with Eliot gave him the push to prove he wasn't the rambley unfocused kid he'd been when they first came together.

"You been pushin' us hard, Nate. I know you got this Moreau thing hangin' over our heads like the _Sword of Damocles_ , but you gotta let up. Eliot and Parker, man, they're gettin' all the heavy liftin' and you ain't givin' them or any of us time to recharge."

Nate narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as Hardison pressed his point. Besides, there wasn't much they could do until Eliot decided to return. He turned to refill his glass to find Parker staring at him her face expressionless, dark circles making her look like one of those big eyed kitten paintings.

Eliot woke warm and with something tickling his nose. He started to draw a deep breath until his ribs let their unhappiness at his movement be known. The smell filling his senses caused everything that had tensed at his awakening to relax. He could feel the thousand bleeding, seeping wounds begin to heal. He buried his nose deeper into the soft curls and closed his eyes.

The next time he woke, a large suitcase was sharing his bed. Owner of said suitcase came out of the walk-in closet with an armload of clothes, which were then neatly placed in the suitcase. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he gingerly rose from the bed. He glowered at the younger man as he moved slowly to the bathroom. Holding an armful of ties, the lawyer returned the glower with a smile that made Eliot's blood race.

A hot shower and he was beginning to feel more human than he had in a month. Wrapped in a towel, he headed to his duffel.

"Where are you going?" Eliot tried to appear nonchalant.

Blue eyes twinkled. "Boston." He walked back in the closet.

Storm cloud eyes narrowed. _*Fuck*_

 _~ Fini ~_


	4. When The Smoke Cleared

Sitting with Parker at 'their' table in MacRory's, Lindsey watched as the rest of the team started converging and Sophie blew through the room talking about Moreau holding an auction for something called Ram's Horn. Eliot came in from the back giving Lindsey a look before telling everyone else Moreau was staying in a hotel in DC.

"Nate, me and Hardison will hit Moreau. We'll get an invite to the auction." Eliot glared at Nate for rushing them.

Lindsey already had an invite. He'd been contacted by the Koreans to stand as their representative at the auction. He had an appointment the next day with Moreau to present their offer. Eliot had nearly swallowed his tongue he'd been so angry when Lindsey told him. He'd been glad for the soundproofing in their condo as they'd stood toe to toe with Eliot trying to convince Lindsey, loudly, to stay home.

"I can't protect you and the team." Eliot insisted.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Lindsey had practically hissed.

"Lindsey …" Eliot dropped his voice trying to rein in his temper.

"No, Eliot. We're ending this one way or another. If we come at Damien from two fronts it'll throw him off balance. It'll make him mean, but he makes rash decisions when he's angry."

Eliot finally let go his anger. Now there was only his fear.

"What if he tries to keep you, Darlin'" He reached out and pulled Lindsey against his chest.

Lindsey sighed and let go his own anger as he rested his forehead against Eliot's.

"I want him gone, Eliot."Lindsey sagged against the hitter's solid frame.

"We will Darlin'." Eliot closed his eyes enjoying the feel of Lindsey in his arms.

Instead of letting go, Eliot began an assault using all the weapons at his disposal to show Lindsey all the things he could never say to the younger man leaving Lindsey lying exhausted, marks of Eliot's possession and ownership covering his body.

When Lindsey's mind started to work coherently again, Eliot had already cleaned them up and had pulled Lindsey against his chest.

"Eliot?"

"Hush Darlin'. Go to sleep." Eliot coaxed.

Lindsey started to do as Eliot suggested before pulling back from the edge of sleep.

"What's wrong, Eliot?"

"Everything's fine and as soon as we take out Moreau it'll be perfect." Eliot soothed.

Too exhausted to press the issue, Lindsey burrowed into Eliot's heat and was soon boneless against the retrieval specialist's chest, ignoring the voice screaming in his head that Eliot was saying more than _'I love you'_.

Lindsey was already in Washington by the time the team's plane landed. Moreau was lingering over his breakfast coffee when Chapman showed him into the suite.

"Lindsey McDonald." Damien's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "When Chapman told me the name of my first appointment I thought someone was having a little joke."

The cultured voice raised the hairs on the back of Lindsey's neck though outwardly he stood patiently, his expression pleasantly bland.

"I was told you died after you helped kill the Circle of Blackthorne." He leered at Lindsey over the rim of his coffee cup. "I want to thank you for that by the way. Made me the man I am today." The dark eyes narrowed. "So how is it you're standing before me, beautiful boy?"

Lindsey's expression never changed. "You know how it is, Damien ... One minute you're dead and the next the Senior Partners decide they need you around a little longer."

Moreau blanched at the mention of the Senior Partners, but he rallied. "Yes … Well … I hear they're having a few internal problems of their own these days."

"As you say." Lindsey replied fighting every instinct that screamed for him to conjure his sword and behead Moreau where he sat.

Moreau gave him a shark's smile as Lindsey continued to stand quiet and passive.

"Alas you know me too well." Damien ran his eyes over the body before him.

Nothing ... Not a twitch, a blink, just that same bland expression and blank blue eyes ... Moreau frowned into his coffee cup at not being able to rattle his former play thing by mentioning the past. A change of tactics would perhaps draw out the fire he knew lived inside the still beautiful boy.

"Since I have some time before my next 'client', come along while I take my morning swim. We'll catch up on all the things I've missed." Damien watched carefully for any sign that Lindsey would balk at his suggestion.

Seething inwardly, Lindsey bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement as he settled in to play Damien's little game.

He was making small talk with Damien's harem when silence filled the room and the small army of black clad enforcers drew their guns. Lindsey froze when he saw Eliot and Hardison. Using the distraction, he moved against the back wall as the women fled the room. Eliot stopped practically standing on Chapman's toes.

"Chapman."

"Eliot."

"They gave you the job."

"There was an opening."

Lindsey shivered at the icy venom in Eliot's voice. He knew Eliot, knew some of the things he'd done, but to see the written word come to life in front of him shed new light on how much the retrieval specialist had changed. Before he got lost further in his own thoughts, the door of the sauna opened drawing everyone's attention to Damien.

"That's no way to treat an old friend."

The circle of black clad men backed away.

"Damien." Eliot kept his eyes on Moreau.

With a look everyone went back to their posts.

"Let's catch up."

Lindsey's heart clenched. Moreau's eyes darted between him and Eliot. He braced himself, Damien was about to show his cards.

"This really has been my lucky day", he paused and extended a hand toward Lindsey…beckoning him from the shadows, "to meet up with two old and dear friends in such a short span of time."

Lindsey stepped into the light, as the enforcers backed away.

Hardison's eyes widened at the silent power play, but for once he held his tongue realizing he and the others had become invisible to the three men. Only they were important. Alec nearly cried with relief when Moreau chuckled, but the next thing he knew he was handcuffed to a chair.

Everyone visibly wilted when Moreau walked over to the wet bar. The tension bled away, but the hacker could feel how tightly Eliot was controlling himself.

"You call this a plan?" Hardison whispered.

"I'm not handcuffed to anything." Eliot growled as he marked everyone's position in the room.

"You work alone." Moreau growled shaken at being on the receiving end of Eliot's emotionless stare.

"Things change." Eliot didn't twitch at Moreau's implication.

Moreau threw a look at Chapman before settling at the poolside table.

"Don't take it personal," Damien grinned at Hardison, "it takes me a while to warm up to people."

Alec played it cool trusting Eliot to keep him safe.

"This one of your retrieval jobs, Eliot? Tell me, whose Snoopy lunchbox do I have?" Moreau asked with a sarcastic humor.

"It's not a retrieval. I'm escortin' the middle man. I'm contracted to make sure he gets in," he looked from Alec to Moreau, "and out with the offer…"

"Pardon, monsieur …" Alec started only to be interrupted by Moreau.

"Before you say anymore, and in the name of fairness, let me bid adieu to my old friend," he nodded toward Lindsey, "he represents your competition." Damien paused a beat, his attention focused on Lindsey. "You remember Lindsey ... Eliot? He was our beautiful young attorney from Wolfram and Hart."

The two men that look so alike, but appeared so different never turned a hair at Moreau's question. Eliot ran his eyes over the lawyer as though sizing him up.

"Can't say as I do." His voice low and even.

"Ah that's right. You had just joined the organization, and was still a member of my Cleaners when Lindsey was with the household." His face took on a sly look, his voice insidious in its innuendo. "Shame the law firm transferred him back to Los Angeles. I'm sure you and he would have become great friends, and I would have been all the envy with two such striking creatures at my right and left hands." He sighed dramatically when he got no reaction from Eliot or Lindsey.

He stood and held out a hand to Lindsey. "Tell your client I will be in touch with my decision shortly."

Lindsey shook Moreau's hand, and dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. Moreau covered their hands with his left and tried to pull the smaller man toward him. When Lindsey wouldn't move, Damien chuckled and bent down.

"Still as unbendable as ever, Beauty." He whispered in Lindsey's ear.

When the taller man straightened he dropped Lindsey's hand as though burnt when the lawyer let him see the shades of Hellfire glittering behind his eyes.

"You have no idea, Damien." He paused. "I will convey your message, but don't take too long." Lindsey purred.

Visibly shaken, Moreau took a deep breath to settle his nerves before turning back to Eliot and his client.

Leaving through the door Moreau's harem used, Lindsey scanned the group of women until he found the one he wanted. A few whispered words and his little air elemental would keep him informed of the Italian's whereabouts.

Now it was time for him to drop off the radar.

Eliot didn't fret about not hearing from Lindsey after the confrontation with Moreau. His Counselor would never compromise the team's plans by appearing where he shouldn't, but the day's revelations had left him unsettled, and wished just this one time Lindsey would make an exception.

He turned his attention back to their plans for the next day pointing out holes that needed plugged for the job to run smoothly.

Parker had plastered herself to his side after their meeting in the park offering her own unique version of comfort. A combination of odd snacks appeared from only heaven knew where, badly timed comments that grated on the nerves, and a silence that seemed to wrap the two of them in a cocoon of Parker's weaving.

It wasn't the comfort he craved, but it would do until the job was finished.

He left the suite before the others were awake the next morning. If he was going to deal with Chapman and his crew he needed to put himself back in that place he lived when he was Moreau's number one.

After Chapman dropped him off, Eliot's time was his own until he got the call from Moreau. The battle inside his head was giving him a headache so when his phone rang he was confused. It was too early for Damien. Just in case…

"Talk." He growled.

The voice that came through the phone calmed him and set his body on fire at the same time. The voice never allowed him time to answer or collect his thoughts as it wove a spell of seduction around the enforcer. When Eliot lay on the couch boneless, covered in sweat and cum, the next words the voice whispered chilled him to his core.

"Remember Eliot, no matter what happens ... I will always love you."

The line went dead.

Eliot didn't have long to think about Lindsey words. He had just fastened the silver belt buckle when his phone rang again. Then there was no time to think at all.

The low growl reached sharp ears hidden in the rafters. The dark head tilted toward the floor then rose to meet beautiful dark eyes.

"Are you sure you can take actually take down Moreau?"

"Absolutely." She eagerly assured Eliot.

He reached down and picked up the pistol.

"Eliot … Listen ..."

"Get 'er outta 'ere." The dead eyes moved over the room ignoring Nate.

Hidden eyes watched the death dealt at Eliot's hands until the barrel of explosive material ignited the warehouse. As the dark clothed figure left the warehouse he smiled when he heard the last volley of shots.

Eliot threw down the guns and ran out of the warehouse trusting the other combustibles would consume the evidence of his handiwork. His face was grim as he found Chapman's Mercedes with the keys dangling in the ignition. He raced for the airport.

He yanked open the hangar door running and ducking under the airplane wing. He saw Damien point his gun at Nate. Hoping to distract the man, Eliot shouted.

"YOU GOT ONE SHOT, MOREAU!" He continued his headlong rush.

Moreau's eyes widened, his brain calculating his options. If he shot the man telling him how he'd tormented him these past six months, Spencer wouldn't stop. He heard his own death in Eliot's voice. His arm swung to the left. With a satisfied smirk he saw the woman drop to the floor clutching her shoulder.

He turned for the steps, but the sound of running didn't stop. Apparently Spencer's white hat did not make him stop to help a bleeding female. He stood frozen as Eliot Spencer charged toward the plane. He was so terrifyingly beautiful that Moreau could only watch as his own death came closer. His paralysis was broken when his tormentor grabbed Eliot.

"ELIOT, NO!" He shouted at the enraged hitter. "We'll deal with him later."

Damien stared fascinated when Eliot snapped and snarled but stopped his run for the plane, and turned to help the woman. As the door snapped shut and the plane began to taxi, the outlaw financier collapsed in a chair exhausted. Reaching for the decanter of scotch, he began calculating how many men he would need in San Lorenzo to protect him from Eliot Spencer.

At Nate's shout, Eliot tore his eyes away from the taxing jet, and ripped off his holsters and shirt. The Italian had been turning toward Eliot when Moreau fired, causing the bullet to lodge in her shoulder against the bone. He folded his shirt into a pressure bandage and kneeled behind her using the leverage to get maximum pressure on her wound.

Once she was situated, Eliot looked up at the disappearing jet. His eyes caught movement at the rear window, and the world stopped. Bright blue eyes and a snarky grin looked back at him. Lindsey was on Moreau's jet.

Eliot unlocked the door to his condo, his exhausted body wanted nothing more than to sleep, but his brain wouldn't shut down. So many possibilities and scenarios as to why Lindsey would leave with Moreau tumbled like shoes in a dryer through his brain. Both his pacing and brain stopped when he felt his phone vibrate.

 _'See you when this is finished.'_

He collapsed unto the sofa like a marionette with its strings cut. Lindsey had stowed away to try and do what the Leverage team had failed to—take down Moreau.

With a growl he threw the phone on the coffee table. Knowing they couldn't do anything until morning, he toed off his boots and pulled the Navajo blanket off the back of the couch. There was no way he would ever sleep in their big bed without Lindsey so forcing himself to be still he eventually bullied his brain into going to sleep.

The next morning when everyone was rushing around trying to figure out the best con to run on Moreau, Eliot was on the phone with an old contact looking for word on his wayward lover. He frowned as he moved from the back of the room to throw his phone at Hardison.

When Eliot turned away from the blank screen, everyone moved back a step at the expression on his face. The last time Nate had seen that look, Eliot picked up a gun and a warehouse went up in flames. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed.

"Ciao."

The team listened as he browbeat the Italian into getting him what he needed.

Parker plopped down next to Eliot.

"You slept on the couch last night."

Eliot grunted and continued looking over the plans Hardison had found for all the government buildings in San Lorenzo searching for where Moreau might be holding General Flores.

The others continued their projects but were listening carefully to Eliot's answer.

"Where's Lindsey?"

"Not here." He growled.

"Eliot?"

"He went to San Lorenzo." He said softly, never looking up.

Everyone stopped and looked at the retrieval specialist.

"How?" Sophie sounded bewildered.

"Lindsey probably knows more about Damien Moreau than anyone other than his wife." Eliot hedged. "His ex-law firm was on retainer to Moreau's boss before some kind of meltdown that Moreau managed to survive."

"Were you with Moreau then?" Nate asked.

This might be their only chance to understand what made Eliot Eliot.

"I came in at the end of the reel." Eliot stared into his mug of tea. "You might say Moreau and I rose together from the ashes of the meltdown." He looked up from his mug. "Lindsey was on Moreau's plane when it left DC."

He went to the kitchen to separate himself from their expectations.

Lindsey braced himself against the wall as the jet thrust toward 37,000 feet. He hoped Moreau busied himself with his two favorites of his women. Glad he could spend the trip hidden instead of using his invisibility charm, Lindsey relaxed. From of the giggles and moans coming from the other room, Damien was drowning his sorrows in scotch and sex.

Knowing Moreau was very old world when it came to keeping his wife and mistresses separate, he knew Damien would never bring his mistresses into his _'marital bed'_ , even on his jet, making it the safest place for him to stowaway.

Looking at the portrait of Anastasia Sebassis Moreau, Lindsey wondered if the agreement they made back in the day when they'd formed a bond based on their misery was still valid.

Stasia was one of the Archduke's demon/human hybrid children he used to bind his underlings through marriages of convenience. She also happened to be the named successor to Archduke Sebassis' position as the Senior Partners tried to rebuild the Circle of Blackthorne.

Those thoughts chased his memories as the plane continued winging its way toward San Lorenzo.

Jostled out of his light doze when the wheels hit the tarmac, Lindsey began to mentally prepare for what was to come.

In the stillness of the warm Mediterranean night screams of pain diminished to whimpers of anguish. Sweat cooled on his fevered body as Lindsey finally hauled himself to his feet and stepped off the jet into the darkened hangar.

Needing to refuel his drained reserves, he let himself into the main terminal thankful to Parker for updating his skills. He found the customs desk and cleared himself with a slap of a red inked stamp.

He strolled lazily several blocks from the airport before hailing a cab to the hotel closest to the Presidential Palace. A sad tale of lost luggage, soulful blue eyes, and the flash of platinum got 'William Ryan' access to the hotel's men's shop. Soon he was standing in the shower letting the hot water sooth away the pain of the arcane brands covering his body.

Until the sigils that rose from his skin healed, he would remain invisible to any type of surveillance.

There was much to arrange before the Leverage crew arrived, but for now the cool sheets soothed the ache of his burns as Lindsey drifted to sleep.

In a villa in Monaco a phone beeped. A frown crossed the face of the classically beautiful woman as she glared at her jewelry case. She pushes aside the baubles her husband has given her over the years as penance as she searched for the annoying beep.

*The consort falls. Queen faces checkmate.*

A vile curse erupted from artfully painted lips. She grabbed another phone and dialed.

"Luc," she waited until she was sure she had her majordomo's attention, "take the red envelope out of my safe and follow the instructions to the letter. No deviations." Her voice was firm.

When she hears, "Understood, your Grace." She smiles.

She pulled the battery and sim card from the phone and on the way to her luncheon on some royal's yacht the pieces disappear, the sim card drifting to the bottom of the harbor as she sipped her champagne. The Archduke always said Damien would rue the day he locked horns with Lindsey McDonald. He would have been such an asset to the Circle if not for Angel's interference.

Smiling insipidly, she listened to the idiotic ramblings of the man seated to her left. Soon the need for her charade would end. Damien would be out of the way…any scandal tied to the name Moreau would soon die down in deference to the poor deluded wife who had no idea her husband was such a monster.

She wondered if the lawyer was still pretty. Perhaps she could woo him to her side. With a sigh she dismissed the idea. They had too much history for them to do well together, but a token of her appreciation could very well gain her an ally ... An ace in the hole ... Yes… She knew just the thing.

UN Elections Inspector, William Ryan meandered the halls of Parliament and the Presidential Palace. He listened, he talked, he poked in corners. He made note of who avoided him, and who sought him out. All the information he gathered went into a file. The day Sophie insinuated herself into the campaign as Vittori's fiancée, he sent the file.

"I should get right on hacking those cameras." Hardison swallowed hard as he watched Moreau walk away.

"Yeah, ya should." Nate agreed.

He'd just settled at his laptop when his email signaled 'New Mail'. He smiled as he flipped through the file.

"Who knew you were such a geek?" He murmured. "You're so out of the closet now, Baby."

"Who're you calling 'Baby'?" Parker frowned.

Landing with a thump on the floor, the hacker looked up at a grinning Eliot and scowling Parker. Hand over his heart, adrenaline pumping, Alec blurted out the first thing that flashed through his brain.

"Lindsey! Why y'all gotta sneak up on a person and scare 'em like that?" He whined as he pulled himself back up in his chair.

He looked up to see Parker grinning and Eliot scowling. This was not good. He could feel the words getting ready to tumble from his mouth. He clapped both hands over his mouth to stop them.

"Hardison …" Eliot growled through gritted teeth.

"I didn't mean 'baby' like you would call him 'baby', but strictly in a 'I found out something really awesome, cool, he da man type of 'baby'…" Alec looked up to see an even darker expression on the enforcer's face. The words came faster, "and he totally jacked into the system and sent me the protocols and saved me a lot of spoofing and piggy backing…"

Eliot took a step forward.

Dark eyes went wide.

"Your boyfriend's a geek and he just saved me hours of grunt work." Hardison was panting like he'd run a race.

"So you don't want to have sex with Lindsey?" Parker asked in the silence.

"What?! No?!" Hardison squeaked. "I mean if I swung that way, sure. Good lookin', smart…" A growl stopped his words, "that is of course if we was both lookin'." He amended quickly. "I have to ah … Do … You know … My work thing so Moreau doesn't try to kill us in our sleep…"

"It's not Moreau you need to worry about." Eliot spun on his heel and headed across the room, campaign workers scurrying out of the way like a herd of Impala away from a leopard. Everyone ducked their heads, careful not to make eye contact with the stormy glare.

"Wow!" Parker's voice was full of awe.

"That's nothin'. You should have seen him at Moreau's hotel in DC." Alec gave a quick glance around the room to make sure Eliot was really gone. "Moreau's goons drew their guns just because he walked in the room."

"Good." Parker bounced off after the retrieval specialist.

She was glad people like Moreau were afraid of Eliot even if he didn't like guns, but she was also sad and mad that Moreau had Eliot do something that made her brother/protector hate himself. The glint that came into her eyes made people take a step back. She needed to find Lindsey.

Lindsey was exhausted. He hadn't slept properly since he'd found out Damien Moreau and Damien Sebassis were one and the same. The magic he'd been using since landing in San Lorenzo also extracted its toll. A cool shower, cream on his burns, room service dinner, and he retired to the balcony with four fingers of whiskey. The blue eyes stared unseeing at the magnificent view of the bay. His thoughts turned to the time after he left South Dakota. His first stop of any import had been a small town outside Denver.

Idaho Springs was a quaint town somewhere between the mining town it started as and a New Age commune. Even with his contract voided he was wary of strangers so when he was approached by a familiar face it threw him into a state somewhere between curiosity and panic.

The middle aged woman smiled warmly as she sat a cup of coffee in front of him before sitting down across from him.

"Ye no longer carry the stench of Wolfram and Hart so why are ye here, boyo?" She asked bluntly.

Lindsey ducked his head blushing. "Just passin' through, Miss Brigit."

Psychics made him nervous. That Brigit was an Irish farseer demon made him doubly nervous.

"Aye, so ye are. Goin' on ta meet yer destiny." She nodded more to herself than to Lindsey. "Ye'll be needin' ta look for a fella named Eric Proctor in Tulsa. While yer there ye need to be seein' yer kinsmen about a fella that looks like ye."

Lindsey made notes on his placemat, the heaviness of her brogue telling him this was from The Powers. He'd told himself he didn't care about Eliot's past, but there were just some things you can't ignore. Apparently having his contract voided hadn't stopped The Powers from meddling in his life.

He turned his truck south and headed toward Oklahoma where he learned Eliot Spotted Horse had lived on Cherokee tribal lands until his parents were killed by a drunk driver, after which he was shipped to his grandparents in Kentucky where he became Eliot Spencer.

Eliot Spencer joined the Army after high school, ended up in Delta Force where he'd served under General Atherton until the CIA had recruited him into deep cover work. By the time he'd gone to work for Moreau he'd left both organizations and was well on his way to becoming the world's top retrieval specialist.

Eliot in the warehouse was beautiful in his deadly dance. Lindsey's heart hurt for the soul deep pain his partner was enduring, but that's what Moreau did to people, and they both carried a taint that would never wash away.

Night had fallen by the time Lindsey pulled himself back to the present. With a sigh he secured his room and hoped for dreamless sleep.

Parker really wanted to taser someone. Between Nate keeping her and Eliot constantly on the run, and Lindsey's ninja skills, she still hadn't found him.

Eliot's growling was down to the occasional rumble as they got a plan in place to rescue his General friend, but she could tell he was worried about Lindsey, too.

Suddenly she was climbing down a steam vent to open the cell doors, Eliot and the General shot Sophie, and Ribera signed the arrest order on Moreau.

After looting Moreau's villa, she once again ghosted through hotels in the city. Still no Lindsey. When she saw Eliot the next morning he seemed in a better mood. Pushing her trunk she gave him a questioning glance. He shook his head behind Hardison's back

"I'll get Nate." He jogged around the corner to the mastermind's room.

They flew back to Boston in the jet they 'borrowed' from Moreau, Eliot sitting in the back ignoring everyone as he hid behind a book.

After a few hours in the air, exhaustion won out, and as everyone slept, Eliot slipped into the bedroom Moreau kept for his wife. Locking himself in the well appointed bathroom, knowing fingertips found remembered switches. Black velvet pouches disappeared in various hiding places on his body. Remembering he worked with thieves, he flushed the toilet and washed his hands before returning to the main cabin.

He saw Parker's bright eyes watching over the back of her seat as he returned to his. Satisfied she snuggled back down with Hardison. Eliot settled into a light doze as the day grew younger.

Lindsey kept his head down as the black armor clad squad jogged by the guards' desk. He recognized Eliot and Hardison bringing up the rear. He made sure to be gone before they came back from the cells. He didn't want to risk Eliot's sensitive nose catching his scent. He'd had a hard enough time dodging Parker the past few days. Besides, he was only there to keep the General safe until Eliot could get him out. He didn't want anyone else around to witness his endgame.

Damien Moreau settled onto the bunk in his cell fighting to control his emotions. With his emotions running so high he was helpless to even begin forming a plan to escape The Tombs.

He began watching. The guards would be his best bet. He would woo the weakest of the group to his side. It was too soon to make a move. He would have to wait until the dust settled from the election. Soon … Soon very soon he would make them all pay.

Lindsey sat cross-legged on the tile floor of the penthouse suite. Pungent smoke rose from the brazier as he spoke ancient words from inside his protective sigil. He continued his chant, but the room remained empty.

Glaring at the empty space, he started to smirk. Reaching for a glass vial he shook the contents into his hand and carefully blew it onto the glowing coals. With what sounded like a curse, a form began to solidify.

Lindsey rose to his feet as what looked like a lesser demon appeared, but he knew better. The creature looked at the human, head cocked as if trying to decide what to do next. It walked over to the edge of the protective sigil.

"Why have you summoned Morpheus, little human?"

"I wish to ask a boon of the Oneiroi." Lindsey answered.

Morpheus inhaled deeply. "You carry marks of daemons and Eudaemons upon you." He paused, confused. "What manner of human are you?"

"One who has been to the edge and jumped over." Lindsey answered simply.

"What is this boon?" The leader of the Oneiroi asked.

As Lindsey explained, the dark eyes of Morpheus began to glitter with anticipation.

"Your request intrigues me." He looked down at the human who was strangely calm for one making a deal with a god. "I will grant your boon … With one condition."

Eliot's gonna be soooo pissed. Was the first thing that crossed Lindsey's mind, but he'd come too far to abandon his plan. Hopefully whatever Morpheus wanted wouldn't leave him too broken to get back to Eliot.

They'd been back in Boston two days. Eliot's growl had become a constant sound in Hardison's ear as he searched camera feeds from San Lorenzo looking for the any sign of their lost lawyer.

He'd found the hotel where Lindsey checked in under William Ryan, but there was sign of him on any of the cameras, though there were unusual blank spots in some of the crowds. Putting together the talents of mages in his World of Warcraft game and what he'd learned about Wolfram and Hart, he walked over to where Eliot was preparing lunch.

"E?" He asked quietly.

Eliot's head snapped up, eyes narrowed. A timid Hardison was not something he wanted right now. He'd rather the hacker be bouncing around the room making declarations about _'the age of the Geek!'_

Alec almost took a step back at the ice he saw in Eliot's eyes.

"Uh … I need to ask … Well … Lindsey …"

"Spit it out, Hardison." He ground out.

"Can Lindsey do magick?" Hardison cringed. The question sounded sort of childish.

Eliot played dumb. "What? Like that pull a rabbit out a hat crap? No."

Hardison waved his hands. "Not that kind of magic." He gave Eliot an exasperated look. "You know very well what I mean. Wolfram and Hart kind of magick."

"Yeah." Eliot acknowledged quietly.

"That what's got you so riled? Thinkin' 'bout what he might do?"

"Yeah." Eliot laid his knife gently on the cutting board and walked out of the condo.

Terms of their agreement settled, Lindsey stepped outside the sigil. Morpheus grabbed his arm, and when he opened his eyes they were standing in front of Damien's cell. The former financier was sleeping peacefully.

"So much the better." Morpheus grinned as he called his brothers.

Phobeton and Phantasos were practically drooling as they advanced on Lindsey. Drawing on everything he'd ever learned at Wolfram and Hart, he remained still until a leathery wing pulled him back against the god's chest.

"This human is mine. Yours is in the cage."

Morpheus felt the slight quiver of the man's muscles as he held himself still.

"You're not going to back out of our agreement, are you?" He purred into Lindsey's ear.

"No." The baritone was soft as though afraid of waking the sleeper.

The Oneiroi joined their thoughts ... Phobeton and Phantasos pulled in Moreau while Morpheus' attention turned to join his thoughts with Lindsey's.

Only to find shields. Very strong shields. Lindsey had devoted so much time to guarding his thoughts from telepaths, seers, vampires, demons and the Senior Partners his natural abilities had built nearly impenetrable walls in his mind.

Let me in, little human. A mental voice demanded.

"What?!" Blue eyes snapped open to meet angry black orbs.

You must give me permission to enter your mind. If I force my way through your mental barriers it will damage us both.

"Oh." Surprise colored Lindsey's voice.

Warily he opened a door in the barricade around his thoughts and allowed the God of Dreams to enter, and was thrown into his personal version of hell.

"Lindsey McDonald, Damien Sebassis, liaison between the Archduke Sebassis and the mundane." Holland turned to Damien. "Lindsey is one of our brightest young stars at the Firm. I think you'll find he can be quite useful during his tenure with the Archduke's household."

"Yes. I'm sure he will be." Damien practically drooled as he shook Lindsey's hand.

Lindsey forced himself to be still and not snatch his hand away from the man that made his skin crawl and the hair on the back of neck stand on end. He would not cower. He would bend, but never break.

The Oneiroi purred as they experienced and exchanged the memories and emotions of the two men. Their pleasure and pain shot through the daemons' system like the purest drug.

A bruising shove from Lindsey's mind pulled Morpheus back from the rush of emotions. Wanting to stop the nightmare he had relived too many times, the human's mind was trying to eliminate what it perceived as the cause. The god sank his claws deeper into the fabric of Lindsey's mind.

Momentarily rooted, he took in the human's acute distress both mentally and physically. Mindful of their agreement, he wrapped leathery wings around the beautiful body and cradled him to his chest. As he soothed the man's distress, he gave his brothers a mental shove to get on with their work.

Once past his own memories of Damien Moreau, Lindsey found himself sitting in Morpheus' lap, pulled against his chest, wrapped in leathery wings both in his mind and in the real world. They spent the night trolling through Moreau's memories, Phobeton and Phantasos twisting the memories to cause Damien the greatest pain.

His mental and physical resources dropped rapidly into exhaustion, Lindsey rallied when they came upon Moreau's memories of Eliot. They were what he had anticipated his lover's time with Damien to have been until the last days.

Dark hair cropped close, blue/grey eyes void of emotion, Eliot Spencer was Damien Moreau's perfect enforcer. The man never flinched or balked at anything the financier asked of him. Eliot asked no quarter and he gave none. He was the pack alpha though Chapman nipped at his ankles like a recalcitrant pup only to be slapped back into his place.

That all ended in Belgrade. When the smoke cleared Eliot had been forced to shed innocent blood in order to save innocent lives.

Lindsey had dealt with enough of Eliot's nightmares to know how he felt about what he'd done. Connected mentally to the Oneiroi he saw the deed from Moreau's point of view. Elation and satisfaction at finding a chink in Eliot's armor—predatory feelings at how he could exploit the only weakness his number one had ever shown then absolute terror when faced with a dead eyed Eliot Spencer.

The combination of emotions, thoughts and dreams were finally too much for Lindsey. The last act his exhausted brain performed was to kick Morpheus out of his mind and slam his formidable shields back in place before everything shut down.

Shocked at being rudely ejected from the human's mind, Morpheus started to reprimand the man until he realized he'd lost consciousness. His concern was eased when he discerned the human was merely exhausted. He knew the human's Eliot. He'd provided the Oneiroi many hours of entertainment. Leaving his brothers with the other human male, he tightened his grasp around the limp form and disappeared.

Eliot leaned against the window frame not seeing the view of Boston outside the window. Trapped in the memories of his past with Moreau, the events in the warehouse and worry for Lindsey slowed his response to the displacement of air behind him.

Grabbing the silver knife off the bookshelf, he whirled and prepared to throw when he caught sight of Lindsey cradled against the chest of what looked like a demon. Seeing the creature in their devil's trap, Eliot began the litany that would send it back to hell.

When all the demon did was cock its head like a curious hound, Eliot stopped his recitation.

"What are you and what the fuck are doin' with Lindsey?!" He demanded as he moved forward.

"Where does this one take his rest?" Morpheus asked looking around the condo.

Eliot pointed up the stairs ... With a leap the daemon was in the loft leaving Eliot running up the stairs. When he got to their room, leathery wings were gently laying Lindsey on the bed. As soon as the creature stepped back from the bed, Eliot was shoving him against the wall.

Taken by surprise Morpheus offered no resistance until the silver knife lay along his throat. A claw tipped hand encased Eliot's head before the retrieval specialist could blink. Memories bombarded his mind … His own memories … Nightmares. Yanking free, he stepped out of arm's reach panting heavily.

"Who the fuck are you?" He stood between the creature and the bed.

A moan came from the bed as Lindsey fought toward consciousness. Man and daemon turned toward the sound.

"Linds?" Gentle hands moved over the body looking for hurts.

Eliot frowned when he saw the arcane signs burned into his love's skin. Flinty eyes turned on the creature.

"The human marked himself in such a fashion."

"Morpheus?" Lindsey murmured. "Is it finished?" He struggled to sit up.

Eliot rocked back on his heels. Morpheus? What the hell had Lindsey been up to in San Lorenzo?

"Yes. It is finished. You completed the terms of our agreement. Now the Oneiroi will uphold theirs." The daemon bowed low.

Lindsey noticed Eliot for the first time. He dropped his eyes recognizing the comforter on their bed.

"You brought me home?"

"It seemed prudent."

"Thank you." He said softly … Still refusing to look at Eliot.

"Anytime, little human." Morpheus' tone held a teasing note. "My brothers and I enjoy a challenging psyche."

Before either man could answer, the God of Dreams had vanished.

Lost in thought, Lindsey continued to stare at the spot where the daemon had stood.

"Lindsey?"

He flinched as he saw the hand approach in his peripheral vision. Eliot slowed the motion, and when his hand cupped the angular jaw, Lindsey leaned tiredly into his touch.

"Please? Eliot, tomorrow? I'm so tired I don't know my own name." Lindsey pleaded.

Eliot practically vibrated with the need to know what Lindsey had been doing, but he could feel exhausted muscles shaking, and tired blue eyes sliding closed.

"Let's git ya undressed first, Darlin'." He coaxed.

Though he was impatient to go through Lindsey's clothes for clues as to what had happened, he took time to soothe the younger man into a deep sleep.

Slipping through the door into the office, he shoved a handful of papers and a passport under Hardison's nose. In a move a cat would have envied, Alec jump straight up and backwards over the couch. He glared at Eliot as Parker snickered.

"Tell me what he did." Eliot demanded of the hacker.

"What?! You come in here, scare me out of half my life, and want me to tell you where your boyfriend's at?" His voice rose several octaves.

"I know where's he's at. I wanna know what he did." Eliot snarled.

"Lindsey's home?" Parker poked her head up from behind a counter.

"Yeah. I got 'im special delivery."

"You can do that?" Parker asked in awe.

Eliot paled as something occurred to him.

"Hardison, can you check on Moreau? ... See if he's still in his cage?"

The quip on the hacker's tongue died when he saw the expression on Eliot's face.

"Sure, man." Long fingers flew over the keys.

Anastasia Sebassis Moreau turned on the television as she sipped her morning coffee. With Damien in prison in San Lorenzo her life had become a bit frazzled. That she'd never used her husband's name and Lindsey's warning had allowed her to salvage a large chunk of Damien's assets, but there was still a great deal of negative publicity to handle.

 _In breaking news from San Lorenzo …_

Stasia's head snapped toward the TV.

 _Damien Moreau was discovered in a catatonic state during morning rounds. Officials had the former financier transferred to the country's secure mental facility for evaluation. As reported during the presidential elections, Moreau was arrested …_

The Archduchess was really going to have to substantially add to the reward she sent Lindsey.

"As far as any of the video surveillance is concerned, Lindsey … Ah … William Ryan never went anywhere in San Lorenzo. He's not any of the cameras. The only place his name shows up is Customs and the hotel." Hardison turned to look at Eliot. "Did he use magick to spoof the cameras?"

Eliot thought about the burns on the tan skin.

"He had help."

"He's seeing another hacker? I'm crushed." Hardison really did sound hurt.

"Not that kinda help." He glanced around looking for Parker. "What about Moreau?"

"He's been transferred to the local mental hospital. They found him catatonic in his cell this morning. Doctors say they can't find any reason for catatonia, only that he's not faking."

 _*Dammit Lindsey!_ * "The Oneiroi." Eliot murmured to himself.

"What?"

Hardison asked just as Parker reappeared, reproach in her eyes as she looked at Eliot.

"He's burned…all over…Why is he branded?" Parker's eyes were damp, but no tears fell. "Who would do that?" she whispered.

"Parker." Eliot softly touched her shoulder. "Parker, Lindsey did it to himself. It's why the cameras didn't see him. It's an ancient magick that's very painful and takes a long time to heal."

"He did that for you … For us … So Moreau couldn't hurt anyone anymore." She asked in a little girl voice.

Eliot nodded. Parker burrowed against his chest.

"What about the catatonic state?" Hardison's fingers flew trying to find the word he thought he heard Eliot mutter.

"Lindsey has friends in high and low places." He let go of Parker and headed for the door. He needed to get back upstairs in case Lindsey woke.

Before he could get out the door he heard Hardison gasp.

"He used the Oneiroi to get to Moreau?! He talked to the Greek God of Dreams?" Hardison sounded incredulous.

"Yeah. Morpheus brought him home. I don't know what kinda deal they made, but apparently Morpheus and his brothers got their monies' worth."

"But … The real Morpheus … I mean … Naw man … Yer punkin' us." Hardison tried to explain away what his logical brain said wasn't possible.

Eliot grabbed the nape of the hacker's neck and pulled him down to eye level.

"Yer the one that looked up all that stuff on Wolfram and Hart. Yer the one that asked if Lindsey could do magick, and yer gonna stand there and call me a liar." Eliot's voice dropped low and dangerous.

Hardison swallow hard.

"Naw, man, but ya gotta admit it sounds out there."

"What's out there?" Nate asked as he and Sophie swept into the condo.

"Lindsey's home." Parker bounced lightly on her toes.

"Yeah." He looked at Eliot. "He okay?"

"Just exhausted."

"He took out Moreau with a god." Parker beamed.

The couple looked at Eliot for an explanation. Eliot growled and pushed by and out the door. Lindsey was upstairs in their bed, and he had no more patience for his team's antics.

"You explain it." He made sure the door slammed to emphasize his point.

He secured the condo for the night, stripped, slid under the covers and curled around Lindsey. Though he'd only meant to take comfort in the fact Lindsey was home safe, the days of worry since they'd been back in Boston took their toll, and Eliot soon joined Lindsey in sleep.

In the black of the night a shadow loomed over the two men. Clawed fingers reached out and ran gently over both dark heads.

"Blessed dreams, Beloveds."

~ Fini ~


	5. Left In The Darkness

**Prologue**

Lindsey McDonald met Dean and Sam Winchester and Eliot Spencer while trying to find a way to break his contract with the Senior Partners. He'd heard rumors of Dean Winchester coming back from hell, and wanted to find out how the man did it. He was heading to Singer's Salvage in South Dakota when a man with long hair, wearing a copy of his face slammed him against a brick wall while a really tall guy stood as back-up.

Guys ..." A raspy voice came from behind the Yeti. "Let up. Let's ask him questions first this time?"

Dean tried to peer around Sam's shoulder.

"You wanna talk first?" Sam sounded incredulous.

"I know 'im. Lindsey McDonald." Eliot growled in his look alike's face.

"How do you know?"

"Remember when you found me?"

Dean grunted as he got elbowed trying to get around Sam.

"The demon that had me thought I was this cat and almost talked me to death about how the Senior Partners would elevate him for catching Lindsey McDonald."

"Good thing we found you first." Dean said as he stepped from behind Sam.

He laid a hand on Eliot's back. "He can't talk if he can't breathe, Eliot."

The pressure on his throat let up.

"This ain't the place for this conversation anyway."

Eliot wrapped a hand around Lindsey's nape and pulled him out of the alley then shoved him into the backseat of the Impala.

"My truck." Were the first words McDonald spoke.

"Give Sam your keys." Dean ordered.

Lindsey hesitated.

"Ya wanna talk to me…we do it on my terms on my turf. Otherwise climb in your truck and forget my name."

At the salvage yard Bobby put Lindsey through his tests. Dean could tell some were painful to the younger man, but he ultimately passed.

 **Now**

Eliot put together supper while everyone else started digging their way through Bobby's stacks of books. Dean had an idea of which one he needed, but it wouldn't do to appear to be more than expected.

He'd given it two days, then snatched the book he needed off the shelf, and headed out into the salvage yard.

Bobby tried to get a look at the book, but Dean was out the door before he could figure it out.

Dean stopped at the Impala long enough to grab a bag out of the trunk that he'd put together, and walked out the gates of the salvage yard.

Bobby had protections set around the entire property line, and for the spell to work Dean had to be outside those protections.

Settling in a patch of woods about a mile from Bobby's, Dean sat his duffel of supplies and the book on a flat rock next to a stream. As he stripped and grabbed a small bag of herbs from the duffel, he was thankful Lindsey McDonald found him in July instead of in the middle of a South Dakota winter as he waded into the stream. Words flowed easily from his lips as he began the ritual.

Dressing quickly in fresh clothes then grabbing a silver knife he began a new litany as he cut an intricate sigil into the earth. That task completed, he set up a brazier and while the fire died to glowing coals, he lit the candles he'd set throughout the sigil and drew a breath to center himself for the final part of incantations and its effects.

Castiel sat with Joshua, the angels drawing peace from the serenity of the garden. The cry that reverberated along the psychic leash he'd attached to Dean Winchester's soul had him on his feet and standing next to the hunter in the space of a thought.

As he squatted down to check on Dean's well being, a hand snaked out and a sword that could only have come from an angel slashed open his arm sending his blood in to a small jar. Too shocked by Dean's actions to move, Castiel flinched as the mortal slapped a handful of herbs on the slice then wrapped clean muslin around the wound. He sealed the jar, and with a moan dropped to his hands and knees mumbling.

"Sorry, Cas … Sorry."

Gathering his wits Castiel looked down and gasped as he saw the two swords under Dean's hands. Before he could reach for either weapon, they disappeared. Sitting back on his heels, Dean stared at his palms. Looking over his shoulder, Castiel gasped as he saw a sigil for the 'light' mark the right palm and a sigil for the 'dark' mark the left. Before he could question his charge further, the mortal's body gave into its exhaustion and collapsed.

When Dean regained consciousness, he moaned softly as his body protested his abuse, but not wanting to delay the inevitable or answer questions from Sam wearing his bitch face, he snatched the jar, the book, along Lindsey and locked Bobby's panic room door against everyone. He heard them questioning Castiel, who shrugged and told them he couldn't follow where Dean was going.

When the two men stepped from the room 24 hours later, exhausted beyond limits, bruised and battered, Lindsey held his voided contract from the Senior Partners in his hand, which he burned on the spot using holy oil provided by the angel.

Dean could see the questions on everyone's faces, and was stupidly grateful when Eliot stepped between them and the rest of the room declaring debriefing could wait until morning.

The sounds of three sets of footsteps thumping over their heads had woken Dean a while ago, but Lindsey remained sprawled across his chest. Dean almost chuckled out loud when the trio decided they should maybe check the panic room. He didn't have the patience for their dickering this morning.

"Show yourself!" Dean's voice was hoarse like he'd spent the night yelling.

"Dean?" They heard Lindsey's plaintive question.

"'S'okay, Linds ... Just mom and my two ugly sisters." He reassured him.

"Why are you down here?" Sam asked.

"We wanted the room with the canopy bed." Dean snapped. "Why do you think?"

"Is something comin' after you idjits?" Bobby asked.

"No."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. It's gonna take 'em a couple days to find enough pieces to do anything. C'mon Linds." Dean pulled the lawyer to his feet. "Since we can't sleep, might as well grab a shower."

Lindsey followed Dean so close he practically stepped on his heels.

"Together?" Sam all but squeaked.

"Small side effect … Wears off in a couple days." Dean smirked as he interlaced his fingers with Lindsey's.

Lindsey stuck his tongue out childishly as he followed Dean up the steps.

"But … Dean …" Sam hung his head.

The conversation followed the two men up the stairs, but Dean continued on not caring if Sam was placated. He didn't have the energy to deal with his brother's high drama.

"What, Sam? Likes boys and girls? Not a surprise." Dean could imagine Eliot waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I really don't need to know this." Bobby groaned as he followed Dean and Lindsey up the stairs.

"I don't like the way Dean was movin'. I need to check both of them for injuries." Dean heard Eliot telling Bobby as he and Lindsey supported each other up the steps.

Dean sighed when he saw Eliot sitting on the edge of the bed. A slight widening of blue/grey eyes was his only reaction when Eliot saw the bruises on his torso. To get past the nine gatekeepers and reach the Senior Partners, Dean had stood as Lindsey's champion through nine gladiator style matches with each opponent progressively worse than the last. The swords that had appeared at the end of the purification ritual could be conjured with a thought-appearing and disappearing from the scars on his palms. He was going to have to remember to ask Bobby how that was possible, if he could ever get the man alone long enough.

Ignoring Eliot, Dean moved to his duffel for clean clothes. His breath caught as he bent over too fast.

"Won't be needin' those 'til I check ya over." Eliot growled.

"'M fine. Just bruised." Dean continued to get dressed.

"Now look, Hoss …" Eliot started toward the hunter.

A hand on his arm caused him to jerk back. Dean saw him glare at Lindsey, but the lawyer never let go of Eliot.

"Dean, please?" Lindsey's voice was soft. "It's my fault …"

Dean cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Fine."

He suffered silently as Eliot went over him carefully. He poked and prodded his half healed gashes, the inside of his arm where he'd opened a vein, blowing up one of the Senior Partners as his blood mixed with Castiel's seemed to have explosive properties in hell, scratches and burns. The hitter frowned when he got to Castiel's hand print. The hand print had been altered … New scarring … A part missing.

Eliot stared at the new scar on Lindsey's chest than back at Dean's shoulder. Eliot frowned deeply.

"Dean … What?" Eliot started.

"Can I get dressed?" Dean cut off the question.

"Yeah. Yer wounds are past the point they need tendin'." Eliot turned to Lindsey. "What about you, son?"

Damp curls danced as Lindsey shook his head in the negative. Eliot flicked his eyes to the new scar on his chest. Watching the interaction between the nearly identical men, Dean moved when Lindsey made a moue of distress then paled to the point where Dean thought he was about to pass out. He pushed past Eliot and gathered the shorter man in his arms.

He didn't know if it was his voice or being held that soothed him, but Lindsey never released the death grip he had on his shirt. After a few minutes, Lindsey pulled back and after a couple of deep breaths had himself back under control. Giving Dean a weak smile, the older man pressed his lips to Lindsey's forehead before letting him go as he headed out of the bedroom leaving Lindsey and Eliot alone in the room.

Dean poured a mug of coffee and ignored Sam as the younger man twitched and fidgeted while Eliot cooked breakfast. When he put the last bite of pancake in his mouth, Sam started. He paced and spit questions at such rapid fire pace that everyone sat back and drank their coffee while the large man circumvented the small kitchen.

"Boy, would you shut up and sit down." Bobby barked. "How in blazes do you expect anyone to answer a question when you don't shut yer yap long enough for anyone to get a word in edgeways?"

The others refilled their cups and retired to the living room leaving Sam standing slack jawed.

Dean had already ensconced himself in an old armchair sitting in the shadows of the overflowing shelves. Lindsey and Eliot laid claim to the ends of the couch. Bobby sat behind his desk, pouring a healthy dollop of whiskey in his coffee leaving Sam between Eliot and Lindsey.

"So what kind of deal did you make this time?" Sam practically snarled at him.

Bobby and Lindsey's eyes went wide at Sam's attack. Eliot's eyes narrowed as though he was sizing up a target until they heard his chuckle.

"Jealous, bitch?"

"Just trying to find out what's coming after you, jerk."

"Nothin's comin' after me. They gave Lindsey back his contract to get rid of me." He smirked from the shadows.

Sam and Bobby gave a sigh of relief, but Dean watched Eliot's gaze shifting between him and Lindsey. Dean kept his expression bland, but the lawyer's eyes had widened slightly before his expression had become one of nonchalance as he leaned back like he hadn't a care in the world.

Eliot smirked. He'd looked into Lindsey McDonald after the Winchesters had killed the demon holding him hostage. The boy was highly intelligent and had been a major player with Wolfram and Hart, though his roots were similar to Eliot's own. His sources in LA said McDonald had died taking out the Circle of Blackthorne so the boy must be running a hell of game.

Dean's leaving the room effectively broke up the party. He went to the basement followed by Bobby to start loading shotgun shells with rock salt after he sent Sam to take inventory of the Impala's trunk. He heard Lindsey and Eliot moving around above his head.

The two men worked in silent camaraderie while Bobby worked up the nerve to poke at Dean.

"What exactly did you do?" He finally asked.

"What I set out to do." Dean answered simply.

"Boy." Bobby's patience was starting to wear around the edges.

"We went, we saw, we blew shit up, we got the contract, we came home. End of story." Dean never paused in packing the rock salt shells.

"What can you blow up in hell?"

"The Senior Partners."

Getting lost in the repetitive motion of loading the shells, Dean wasn't prepared when Bobby spun his stool around.

"You better explain yerself, boy." He snarled in Dean's face.

"I just did." Dean snapped back.

Shoving the racks of shells in an ammo bag, Dean pushed past the older hunter, his anger making him forget he wanted to pick the older hunter's brain about the Swords of Balance.

Bobby followed Dean up the stairs where they sailed past Sam. Sam looked at the thunderous expression on Bobby's face, and followed to watch the fireworks.  
They entered the living room in time to see Eliot snatch Lindsey by the nape of the neck.

"You better explain yerself, boy. Why do you have a piece of Castiel's handprint over yer heart?"

Lindsey was about to say something to Eliot when he heard two gasps from the doorway.

Sam and Bobby watched wide-eyed while Dean looked resigned. Grabbing the whiskey bottle from the shelf, Dean went out the door.

He heard the scuffle behind him, but never stopped as he headed out into the junkyard.

"Dean?"

"Go away, Lindsey. Tell 'em whatever you want, but don't expect me to be part of the conversation. My nightmares are my own." He took a deep pull from the bottle.  
Dean could tell the younger man didn't want to leave him, but the surly curse Dean sent toward him, changed his mind.

"Come in the house before you pass out." Was all the younger man said as he reluctantly turned away.

A grunt was his only acknowledgement.

"You can carry yer ass back to the house with him, Spencer. Don't need yer nursemaidin'." Dean's voice made both men jump.

Dean smiled sadly as he watched his old and new friends sleep. It said something for Eliot's state of mind that Dean had crept past, showered and made coffee without waking the paranoid man.

The mystical bond Dean had forged with Lindsey to make it through hell without losing the younger man had faded. He'd driven into town and replaced the bottle he'd thrown against one of the wrecks in a fit of self-pity with only a slight twinge. The nightmares of Hell were back in full force, and since he couldn't sleep he would drive and hunt until he could … Today might be a good day to pack his Baby and hit the road.

Heading back to the coffee pot, he didn't see the sliver of blue/grey behind the curtain of dark lashes.

The groan of antique sofa springs, creak of the wooden floor boards, alerted Dean that the 'twins' were up and moving. He grabbed his cup and headed out the door before they got into the kitchen to start the next round of questions about how he was feeling.

Dean had his head under the hood of the Impala when he heard the door slam and could hear Sam practically stomping across the yard. With a tired sigh Dean mentally braced himself for Sam's newest rant.

"You didn't come to bed last night." He state baldly.

Dean never lifted his head from under the hood.

"When did you become the 'little woman'?" He snarked.

"The nightmares are back?"

"Who said they left?"

That stopped Sam in his tracks.

"But …"

"You ready to go?" Dean pushed.

"Go?" Sam asked confused.

"Did you hit yer head? Yeah … Go … Get in the car and drive away."

"What about the thing with Lindsey?"

"Not a problem. Now move yer giant ass." Dean growled.

He straightened and lowered the hood gently.

"Or stay here and get yer demon bitch to zap you wherever you wanna be." Dean glared as he brushed past Sam to the house.

With a quiet sigh, Dean heard Sam following him meekly to the house.

Sam had continued up the stairs while Dean turned to grab a glass of water found himself cornered by Bobby.

"Dean, just hear me out before you go off all half-cocked." Bobby knew he had to talk fast before Dean's sharp tongue got ahead of his exhausted brain. "Give me a chance to find you a hunt instead of just aimlessly driving around 'til something falls in your lap. We all need time to regroup after whatever idiot stunt you pulled to get that boy's soul back." Bobby tried not to raise his voice, but his fear of what Dean was willing to sacrifice for others made his tone sharp.

Dean looked as though Bobby had slapped him before his expression smoothed over.

"Fine. You ladies let me know when you recuperate from having to deal with the class fuck up." Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Dean … Boy …"

Bobby shook his head in exasperation as Dean stalked out of the house with a slam of the door that rattled the windows.

Exhausted, haunted and angry, Dean stood in the middle of the yard quivering with the need to DO something, but having no target to focus on. He stood mustering all the control forty years of torture under Alastair had taught him to keep from losing his tenuous grip on his emotions. He was startled out of his inertia when something wet, cold and warm attacked the fists clenched at his sides.

He looked down at the two sets of brown eyes staring up adoringly. Samson and Delilah were the Rottweiler pups Bobby got shortly after Dean's return from hell.

"At least someone around here loves me." He muttered. "Come on, pups. Let's see what we can find to piss somebody else off."

He looked around the yard until he spotted Lindsey's truck. Ah, the perfect project. There was something that just wasn't sounding quite right about the old girl. Dogs in the back, Dean fired up the old Ford and headed for Bobby's shop. Since he didn't see sleep in his foreseeable future—tearing the classic apart and putting her back together would have to suffice.

Samson sitting up from where he was lying by the front wheel of the truck alerted Dean that someone was coming toward the garage. The near silent footfalls told him it was Eliot. He half expected Eliot to grab a leg and pull him and the creeper from under the old truck, so before the mercenary got any closer he rolled completely under the Ford. He decided to head any intervention to his self-imposed exile off at the pass.

"Workin' here. Go away."

'Yeah, well, the dinner bell just rang so get cleaned up and yer ass to the house." Eliot leaned against the workbench, arms crossed over his chest.

"In the middle of somethin', Spencer. I'll come in when I'm done." Dean growled.

"Dammit Dean."

"Don't need yer motherhennin', Eliot … Better spent on Lindsey … Boy had a tough time of it."

The conversation was ended when Dean pulled the trigger on the impact wrench.

Finally exhausted enough that his brain quit feeding his hands the information he needed, Dean put the shop to rights and closed down the lights. Standing in the deepest shadows between the house and garage he watched as Sam stole from the house.

Three hours later, the click of the locks signaled his return.

"Don't forget to shower the stench off before you go in our room."

Sam spun into a defensive crouch at the voice, but relaxed when he saw Dean sitting in the book lined living room.

"Dean?! ... I …"

Dean continued as though Sam hadn't spoken.

"Strip in the laundry room. I don't wanna have to smell Hell every time I go in the room." He tossed back the last bit of liquor in his glass before heading out the door. "Think I need some _'fresh'_ air."

He left Sam gap mouthed in the middle of the room.

On the porch Dean drew in deep lungfuls of the night air. Smell had always been his strongest sense memory, and after this second trip to hell in less than a year everything was just as bright and vivid as the day he clawed his way out of the grave. Sulpher, ash, brimstone, Ruby's stench … He'd learned all their scents…each demon had that baseline hell stench, but layered over that was a smell that belonged to each one. Ruby … Alastair … All the ones that had tortured him for his forty years in hell. He might not know their names, but he knew their scents, and the memories that each one's scent triggered in his brain.

His mind prodded his body awake because someone was in the room. The smell brought forth memories of Pastor Jim's church and … Lindsey.

"Do somethin' for ya, Counselor?" Dean's sleep roughened voice drawled.

Lindsey shivered. "I should be asking you that." He moved from his chair to shove Dean against the back of the couch before sitting snugged against the hunter's hip. "I'm …" Blue eyes met green. He scrubbed his hands over his face. "You've been there. You know it takes a day or two to shake the dust off."

"Yeah." He reached out to squeeze Dean's hand. "I'm sorry." At Dean's quizzical expression he continued. "For causing you to dredge it all up again … Making it all fresh and nasty and right there." He tapped his forehead.

Dean chuffed out a breath in a weak laugh.

"S'what I do. Find dragon, slay dragon, and rescue wavy haired damsels in distress."

Serious blue eyes stopped his words.

"I know. Thank you." He placed a chaste kiss on Dean's lips before he moved off to the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"Think I'll grab a shower first." He stood and stretched. He felt keys digging into his thigh. "Linds." He tossed the keys to the lawyer. "She oughta run better."  
Lindsey stared after him as he continued up the stairs.

When Dean came back down the stairs the near identical men were standing with their heads together over one of Bobby's books. A pang of envy made his chest ache as he watched Lindsey lean into Eliot's heat. He marked the calendar in his head that by the time the year turned those two would be together. Pasting his usual smirk on his face, Dean made his presence known.

"Ya wouldn't be causin' the cook to burn my breakfast?" He waggled his eyebrows when Lindsey jumped back from the retrieval specialist.

Before Lindsey could sputter out an answer, Eliot jerked his head toward the stove.

"Oven."

Dean tackled the plate of food with gusto, but as soon as he was finished, the plate was washed, and grabbing a travel mug disappeared with his four legged shadows. When he stepped into the house several hours later, he heard Lindsey's voice coming from the living room.

"When Dean finally found me they'd already cut into my chest. I don't know where he got the idea to cut a piece off Castiel's hand print and use it as a bandage, but it worked."

While everyone's attention was on Lindsey, Dean slipped up the stairs, his shoulder aching with remembered pain. With a jaw cracking yawn, he pulled off his boots and stretched out on his bed. Pulling the extra blanket over his shoulders, he wished for a few hours peaceful sleep before having to rejoin the real world. A rumpled sentry kept watch from the foot of the bed. When sweat broke out on the hunter's forehead and he started to toss and turn, a gentle hand reached out to soothe away the nightmares. Satisfied, the exhausted mind was pushed deeper into sleep, two fingers smoothed over the frown lines across the freckled forehead. Satisfied the sentry disappeared from the room.

Cup of coffee in hand, Dean turned when he heard a familiar step behind him.

"Bobby, if you …"

"Dean, I just got word …"

The two men started at the same time.

"You first." Dean leaned against the counter blowing across the top of the cup to cool his coffee.

"Riverton, Colorado …" Bobby refilled his cup and led the younger man to his desk.

Dean eased the Impala down Bobby's dusty driveway. By the time wheels met tarmac, the rumble of the engine vibrating through his hands as he gripped the wheel already had him relaxing into _'drive all night'_ mode.

Sam's shifting and twisting finally drew Dean's attention from the almost hypnotic trance he'd been in since they crossed over into Wyoming.

On the south side of Denver he found a motel that was shabby but surprisingly clean. Dumping their gear in the room, he took advantage of Sam's sleep fogged brain to leave him in the room while he made a food run. As he pulled away from the motel, he was hitting 2 on his speed dial.

"What did you do, Boy?" Bobby barked.

Dean ignored the question. "Did you find anything?"

"Not yet. Have you asked Castiel?"

"No. Don't think I want the angels knowin' 'bout 'em." He admitted.

"Point." Bobby paused. "Lindsey's still 'organizing' my library. Want me to tell him to keep an eye out?"

"Guess it couldn't hurt to have an extra set of eyes." Dean conceded grudgingly.

"I read the spell, Dean … There was nothin' in that spell that would have done that."

"Don't you think I know that? I went over that spell six different ways. I may not have Sam's big brain, but I'm not an idiot." Dean's tone was petulant.  
"Don't git yer dander up, Boy. I know you're not stupid." Bobby insisted.

The comment was lost when Dean put the phone down while he ordered their food.

After Sam was asleep, Dean slipped out of the room, and when he came back several hours later, he was sore and battered, but his hands on research of the Swords of Balance had been a success.

Now all he had needed was to find out why.

~ Fini ~


End file.
